It was 2022, and the entire world was coming off the worst pandemic it had seen in several generations. Because of the valiant effort of the current administration, one final vaccine was discussed to help prevent any further variants of COVID-19. After half a dozen companies came forth with questionable results, a new company came forth, COVOPRO, which promised perfect results with no side effects. After being administered to thousands of test subjects, COVOPRO was finally approved, moving it to the head of the line in front of the other vaccines. Once available, citizens lined up around the corner to receive their shots. Within a week, one million country-wide received the injection. Within a month, those numbers rose to five billion.
All was going well to the unthinkable occurred. That initial five million suddenly failed to rise from bed in the morning. By the time the sun began to warm their faces the next day, those who slept awakened urgently to seek out the warmest bodies close to them. Wives attacked husbands, sons attacked daughters, and ill patients attacked their caretakers. Unlike old horror movies, the victims weren't turned into mindless zombies; instead, they were infected with a violent strain of the novel coronavirus. Within minutes of having their skin broken, the victims would develop a near debilitating cough, followed shortly by laborious breathing that, no matter what, could never get enough oxygen. Victims self-suffocated within minutes.
Neighborhoods fell in a day.
Cities fell in a week.
The country known as the United States of America ceased being a functioning government by the end of the first month. As the nation fell, a new shadow government arose on the west coast led by former Lt. Gov Boiler. His plan was simple. Eliminate ALL infected, and reclaim the United States. Unfortunately, what started as an act of kindness quickly spiraled into something far more sinister as his foot soldiers, appropriately nicknamed "The Blue Hats," mainly because of the blue berets. These soldiers, most of whom had very little training before "volunteering," quickly exhausted most of the state's national guard surplus before setting their sites upon regional army bases. What they couldn't get from military sources, they got from what remained from the random homes and businesses they randomly came across. According to Boiler, everything from clothing to food to medical supplies was all up for grabs, who saw his plight as taking the highest priority, even if it went against citizens' rights. Often Boiler could be heard shouting, "When the United States fell… so did the constitution! So that's all I have to say about citizen's rights!"
While the United States deployed the vaccine, neighboring countries Mexico and Canada, did not. Once the recipients of the injections started to get sick and spread the virulent coughing symptoms, both countries closed their borders. Fleet and Nas came up with the idea to gather everyone they could collect at PSR West Coast and head for Canada, where Jindred had started to build PSR North Star, the largest PSR household ever built. The only problem before them was keeping the remaining PSR group safe and alive till it was time enough to make their move to cross the border. Whenever Fleet was pressed for an answer on this, his simple words, "Don't you worry… I've got it covered."
If Fleet said it, then the PSR family believed it.
Chapter 1 (Current Day)
With all bodies present, onboard, and heavily armed, the driver stuck the lone key into the ignition. After giving it, several turns, the large vehicle that sounded like a tank and often drove like one roared to life with overzealous sarcastic applause from its passengers. "Think this thing will make it?" the grizzled veteran PSR member said to the driver. "You ever see that Clint Eastwood movie… the Gauntlet?" the driver asked. "No," the man standing over him said as he looked over the passengers one last time before they departed. The driver smiled, "I guess that's going to be a good thing because, after today, I think we'll be able to do an adequate remake." The inevitable occurred at the rear of the vehicle, as the first series of bullets began to find their marks on the vehicle's right side. "Should I return fire?" a voice called from the back. "Right now, they are taking stabs in the dark. So why confirm our location by returning fire," the man replied before looking down at the driver. "You ready?" His head faced forward, the driver replied with a simple head nod. The large man patted the driver on his right shoulder before pulling out his own weapon, "Okay, gals and girls… let's roll!"
Last Edit: May 7, 2022 5:54:10 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle
PSR West Coast was less than five years old, and despite being the second PSR mansion built after PSR East Coast, it still felt like home to any guests. While PSR West Coast wasn't the oldest building under the PSR umbrella, it was the largest, as Fleet and the rest of senior management were able to secure it for Peenies to the dollar as the recent baseball strike hurt the pockets of so many Major League players who suddenly found it difficult to own and maintain a five million dollar property as well as its taxes. It was the height of many PSR members making their pilgrimage to the west coast for vacationing when the adverse effects of the COVID vaccine kicked in, making it all but impossible for members like EagleRob, Modo, and Nubilator to make it back home. Once the decision was made for everyone under the PSR umbrella to head west, the current household did all it could to meet its members as far away from the property as possible to ensure their safe travels. As valiant as the sentiment was, this too came with unfortunate results. Some of the PSR members who were already in from Canada decided to sneak across the border to assist PSR West Coast in making their transition. Unfortunately, shortly after crossing the border, Nas lost contact with Jindred, Morkim, and Saska. Unfortunately, PSR Canada wasn't the only one that never made it. Long-time PSR member Kimber reached out to Fleet, informing them that she too would try with everything she had to meet Fleet at the mansion. The last time Fleet had heard from her, she was making it through Nevada, expressing her concern about the multiple police checkpoints she was encountering. Feds went dark around Wyoming. Peen, CityofChamps, and DiveB\tch reportedly never made it out of Pa; at least that's where they were last known to be after having difficulty crossing the border into Ohio. A blast from the past in DaRaider, who was probably closer to original proximity than anyone else, said he and his friends had gotten pulled over by the blue hats. When Fleet pleaded with him to tell him where he was, DaRaider bravely turned him down, stating that he was woefully pessimistic that he'd get out of this mess and didn't want to risk any PSR lives in a rescue attempt. When the mansion stopped receiving guests they were expecting; they finally started getting guests who were not invited. Fleet and senior management knew this was always a possibility. What they could not predict was how horribly wrong it would turn out. At first, just one guy was promptly intercepted by BigBlue and BigDaddyTorr a quarter-mile from the mansion's perimeter along the long, isolated road that led to the property. The stranger appeared friendly at first, as he calmly approached the two PSR veterans with his palms facing upward, releasing a warm greeting, "Hello friends, I was exploring and looking for food when I came across this path and followed it. But, hey, you wouldn't happen to have any supplies in that home back there that you can spare." BigDaddyTorr blocked the man's direct line of sight of the mansion in his background. "Sorry, Big Guy, there's nothing in there that we can share." "Really?" The man said incredulously as he continued to look through BigDaddyTor as if he were invisible. "It's an awfully big place not to have anything." "As you can imagine," BigBlue chimed in. "It's been quite a long time since we've been able to go through the self check out line at the local Walmart." "Still… with only a half-dozen or so mouths to feed to, you would think you'd have some reserves with a home of that size." BigDaddyTorr patience was beginning to wear thin as he realized the man was now fishing about in an attempt to determine how many people resided inside the mansion. "Hey, Big Guy…" The man quickly cut BigDaddyTorr off, "Todd. The name's Todd." "He didn't ask you what your name was, and frankly, he… nor I don't care," added BigBlue, who took two steps in the man's direction, his left hand hovering over near the spot where he carried his Glock. "We don't have anything to spare, and I see this conversation as a waste of everyone's time. So please, venture forth back the way you came and forget you ever saw this path… or this place. Todd quickly left, but it wouldn't be the last time they saw him. Two weeks later, Todd came back, but he was not alone this time, bringing five guys with him. Suspecting the worst after their first encounter, Fleet had the patrols doubled, so when the six men approached, Big Daddy Torr, BigBlue, EagleRob, Arenas, and Modo, calling themselves the NFC Beasts, quickly dispatched the foes who lacked both the proper weapons and appeared to be slightly malnourished. Nevertheless, the fight had gone so well that Arenas openly bragged that they would never see these guys again. When Todd returned the third time, Arenas was the first to fall when Todd's group managed to procure several rifles and handguns. However, despite Todd's crew now being armed, they were still outmanned and outgunned by the over dozen embers of PSR who had been training for the eventual event by Bucky'sRevenge and Tinley. Arenas was the only one mortally wounded when the fighting was over, while Todd's group lost two of his members. Then, with Todd and his remaining comrades tied up and on their knees on the mansion's basketball court, the discussion was opened on what to do with them. "I saw we kill em!" Becks' quickly admitted. "They've hit us three times, and yes, I'm including the first because it was clear that Todd came here for surveillance and to get a feel about who we were." Lige rushes in and grabs Todd by his dirty blond hair, "I agree with Becks. Let's kill them!" "Wait a minute!" Tinley says. "Is this really who we are? Is this really how bad things have gotten, that we've become killers?" "Tell that to Arenas!" Binger says from the back. "Cause Todd and his group didn't mind killing him." "And in turns, we killed two of theirs," Tinley. counters. "Once we go down this slippery slope, there's no going back. Trust me. As a combat-experienced veteran, it's hard to turn that switch off once it's started." "What do you think, Bucky?" Jerry asked. "You're former military too." BuckysRevenge hesitated for a moment, making sure he chose his words carefully before speaking. "I say kill me, but at the same time, Tinley's opinion shouldn't be set aside either." After several more minutes back and forth, Fleet finally addresses the gathering, "Both sides have made valid arguments. But these guys are beaten… beaten SOUNDLY. The ones we killed were in the heat of battle, but it's execution if we kill them now. I don't think any of us what's this on our conscious. It will change us forever." Fleet bends down and grips Todd up off the ground by the collars of his light coat. "This is your final warning. You come back, and I PROMISE you that you and your cohorts will not walk away. I'll bury you myself in the got-damned flower garden! You'll make good fertilizer." Once freed, Todd and his remaining colleagues tearfully apologized, swearing up and down that they'd never return. Not a whole week went by before Todd returned with over fifty men, and this time it became painfully apparent why he was continuing to step up the level of his aggression as he now sported a blue hat and demanded the seizing of PSR West Coast under the guise of its procurement was necessary fo the new government. Fleet informed Todd what he could do with his procurement, and immediately a firefight ensued. With PSR being the ones now outmanned 5-to-1, they retreated into the confines of the mansion, hoping they could hold out. They couldn't. They were out of ammo in under a day. A teary-eyed Fleet made one of the most challenging calls he's ever met as bullets flew over his head that penetrated the glass leading to the vestibule. "Ladies and Gents, with much trepidation, it hurts to announce that I believe now is the appropriate time to abandon the mansion!" Lo stepped forward, slamming his hand into his fist, "@#W% that! We can hold these @#% ## off Fleet!" "At what cost, Lo? We already have wounded. How many will die tonight for us to outlast this siege? What if even more come? I say we grab all we can carry, water, weapons, and non-perishables, and make for the rear garage in five minutes." Four minutes later, Fleet's Tahoe, and Lo's Excursion, he'd nick-name his 'War Wagon,' had all the remaining PSR members sans two. Fleet stood in the doorway leading to the garage, the man who faced rigid posture, his chest lifted, his eyes dead-pan. "You sure you want to do this?" Fleet asked. "I feel like I have to do something," the man replied. Fleet and this man shared a tight but brief embrace before Fleet jumped in the driver's seat. As the colossal garage door began to open, a cacophony of gunfire immediately erupted from the complex's rear grounds. Fleet turned to Becks, "If you would?" Becks fishes several smoke grenades out of her bag, and just before she's ready to give them a toss, E-Nice chimes in, "Make sure your aim is tight!" Becks looks back at New Englander who had just arrived a few days ago and says, "I fly jets… my aim is always tight!" By the time the opening doors raised to roof-level, Becks had tossed the smoke grenades out in fifty-foot intervals, creating a column of smoke that, before the attackers realized what had happened to large SUVs, come barreling forth from. "Let them go!" Todd says. "We have what we've come for!" Todd's men all cheer at once as they immediately storm through the garage of PSR West Coast, going room by room on the ground floor, not realizing the lone figure who patiently sits alone at the top of the stairway. "We've got a live one!" one of Todd's men calls out two minutes later, his pistol held firm at the man's temple. Seconds later, Todd pushes through the crowd of onlookers, arriving face to face with the man, showing an immediate look of recollection at the man sitting on the top step with his head lowered, his hands clasped between his two legs. "You! Tinley, right? What's the matter? Fleet didn't allow you to go since you convinced your pals not to kill me. Wish you had second thoughts and many regrets about that decision, don't you?" Tinley slowly raises his head, a sinister grin on his face, which causes Todd to take a step back. "I did, but not anymore!" Tinley lifts his arms ups, revealing the fist-sized detonator, its lone red diode lighting up the interior of his hands. "SOMEBODY SHOOT THIS [email protected]#%[email protected]#! SHOOT HIM NOW!" Todd screams at the top of his lungs. The man holding the gun to Tinley's' head returns it to that position and fires. But no one ever hears the bullet expulsion as the sound of thunderous explosions tear through the ground floor of the mansion as every load-bearing wall and support column disintegrates. The floor beneath Todd and his men vanish as they fall over twenty feet into the rubble below. Those who miraculously survive that fall, as Todd did, were not the lucky ones, as they lived to see the rest of the man's second-floor crash down on top of them. PSR Mansion West Coast was no more, but the majority of its inhabitants got to move on and live on, and as long as there's life, there's hope.
Last Edit: May 7, 2022 5:53:06 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle
Two weeks later, on a warm Monday, the sun had already begun setting in the pacific , a young woman and middle-aged man painstakingly made their way through Cooper Canyon Falls, eight miles outside of Los Angelos. The male figure walks with a more noticeable limp than his female companion, and he has his arm around for support. "You have to leave me!" 610 says to his female companion before uncurling his arm. The woman sighs heavily, bringing her arm in at the waist. "If you say it again, I'm going to shoot you myself!" 610 leans against the tree, pulling his water bottle from his bag. He empties its remaining content before wiping his brow. "The sun is setting, and you know what comes when that happens. But more importantly, at this very moment… we're lost!" Mirroring 610's gesture with her water, Becks nods her head in agreement. "I know... I know… we've been past this section several times. I don't think we're going to find her. You've been out here longer than me. How come you can't remember the way?" "I've been out here three weeks longer than you, and I'm from Philly, so I sometimes get lost at the local mall. I swear, if it weren't for" Becks silences 610's words, her hand finding its way to her pistol a few seconds faster than 610 as they hear the sound of branches snapping in behind them. With their weapons trained in the direction, Becks, who has superior eyesight, quickly lowers her weapon first, "JERRY!" "OMG, I can't believe I found you guys," the longtime friend says as she runs to the pair before delivering tight bearhugs while keeping in the tears that attempt to streak down both sides of her face. "I've been looking for hours, but I couldn't find the trail Binger mentioned." "That weeks ago, honey," Becks said. "A lot has changed since then." Minutes later, plus one, the duo finally made it back to the path that only their trained eyes could distinguish from a regular overgrown patch of forest. "Finally!" Becks says. "We hid Lo's War-Wagon so well, we hid it from self." "I thought this was the path/roadway that led to the mansion?" Jerry states. "Like I said, girly, a lot has changed since the last you talked with Fleet," Becks says. "You mean the mansion?" "Poof!" 610 days. "If you inhale deep enough, you may even still smell the ashes." The words hadn't left 610's lips for more than ten seconds before two men in military fatigues, combat boots, and blue berets. The two men looked up 610 and the others greedily, their white teeth almost glowing in reflection of the setting sun. Then finally, the first of the two men stepped forth, "Would you look at this Don, two girls… and a guy, all with full backpacks… undoubtedly stolen goods from the valley." "See what I said, Gregory. If we hung out just a little bit longer, we'd catch somebody. Bob White is going to hook us up great for this. Might even get on Ceaser's level." "Hey, wait!" Jerry barked out as she stepped forward. "This is our stuff. We're just a group of friends trying to make it back home." "Home?" Gregory responded, his smile getting even more prominent. "You got a place up there? But, hey, you wouldn't be friends to those folks up at that burnt-up mansion, would you?" Before Jerry could even think of an adequate response to get them out of the predicament that could very quickly end in their deaths, a gunshot rings out before her, stinging her nostrils with the smell of cordite. Don fell to his feet, his blue cap gone, as an expanding red dot began to flow evenly from Becks's precise bullet placement. Gregory looked at his assault rifle, then looked back up at 610, who already had him dead to rights, "Wait… I won't say anything. I swear to you. Better yet, I never even seen you guys tonight at a-" 610's shot instantly silences Gregory's plea. Jerry immediately turns around in her companion's direction, "WHY???" Becks grabs Jerry softly by the shoulder, "You aren't familiar with the Blue Hats where you are from, gal, but trust me when I say, we have a reason why we did what we did." "I don't want to break it to you, but if we don't get out of this forest in the next fifteen minutes, we will come across something far worse than the blue hats." "They're that bad up here?" Jerry asked. Off in the distance, eerie gargling sounds begin to fill up the forest's darker parts. Becks looks toward Jerry, "Put it like this, we have ten times your population, and the closet clinic was only six miles from here. So if we aren't back in Lo's Excursion and on our way before the sun is down, you are going to get your answer the hard way." "W-Wat!" a raspy voice called out from the underbrush before the figure the voice belongs to fully emerged." "Vikes!" Becks released in jubilation. "You found us… and with not a moment too soon. Becks maneuvered herself to give VIkes a hand when suddenly a stiff hand from 610 kept her from getting any closer. "610, what are you doing?" "Look at him!" the former Philadelphia Officer responds Becks trains her eyes on Vikes' face as she sees her longtime friend's eyes watering, his cheeks flush and bulging. "He's trying his best to hold in a cough!" Jerry says. On cue, Vikes suddenly explodes into spasmatic coughing convolutions. Immediately Becks and company all begin to back up. "Vikes… your cough. Are you?" "No! NO. Becks, you have to believe me. I just had some water go down the wrong-" VIkes words are cut short as he again falls victim to a series of violent coughing, taking him to the ground. Jerry turns to flee, quickly followed by 610. As the others disappear into the forest, Becks turns around one last time, her eyes locked in on the tear-streaked face of VIkes, his wavering right hand outstretched in a vain attempt to reach her. Becks turns towards the others and flees, knowing despite her outward confidence that a part of her is dying on the inside by leaving her old friend behind.
Last Edit: May 7, 2022 5:34:14 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle
Snerb had been on the road with his Kawasaki Ninja for eight hours when the sun had finally set. Unlike most survivors, nobody wanted to be out at night, including his own PSR brethren. Nobody, except Snerb, who, in his own words, "Owned the night." Snerb found PSR's current home; an old paper factory gave their members more than enough room to space out, and with being a paper factory, no one was worried about anyone coming by for scavenging since no one would think such a business had anything of value. Today, which will soon be tonight, Snerb was in the middle of the ransacked parking lot, disabling his rear brake light. By the time Snerb was done, the sun was fully set, as a mini-flashlight held by his mouth illuminated the breakdown of his tools. An ordinary man would have high-tailed it out of there as his ears detected the gasping breaths of the infected less than two blocks away. But Snerb was not ordinary, as he sat on a cart turned over on his side, started a small fire, and was seconds from using his eight-inch knife to pry the top off a can of Spaghetti rings. "Can I sit with you?" a calm voice called from the darkness, nearly causing Snerb to age twenty years in twenty seconds as he almost leaped at his sudden intruder. "Hey, wait!" The voice said in ernest. "Don't attack! I just want to sit by the fire." Snerb bit down on his upper lip, kicking himself for what he was considering doing. Instead, Snerb gestured for the man to sit a few feet from himself without giving him a verbal response. The man nodded his head in appreciation before grabbing a large bucket and flipping it over as a chair. "Hungry?" Snerb asked. "Always am," the man quickly replied as he licked the outside of his dry lips. Snerb pulls out a knife that makes the man tense up, only to watch in amazement as this stranger next into the top of the can and effortlessly pries off the lid before handing it to him. "You always hang around at night?" the man asks before stuffing the gelatinous sauce and pasta into his mouth. Snerb starts fishing through his bag before returning his gaze to the stranger, sighing, "You ever see where the infected come from?" "I can't say I have." the man mumbled as he continued to stuff the contents of the can so quickly into his mouth it made his words near incoherent. "I've been doing this long enough that as long as we stay away from any vehicles and abandoned open buildings… we're good," Snerb says as he fishes another can from his back, popping it open with his trusty knife, and joins his companion. "Reason why you're out here?" "Looking for friends?" "At night?" "And during the day," "Must be good friends?" "The best!" "You have a place up nearby?" "Close enough." "With gas scarce, it's gotta be within distance of that bike," the stranger says slyly. "You ask a lot of questions." "Haven't had the pleasure of talking to another induvial in a long time," the man says as he leans up on the edge of the bucket. "You think you have room for one more where you're at?" Snerb slightly leans up on the edge of his turned-over cart. "What makes you think I have an extra room?" "You said you're looking for friends, right?" "You're assuming my friends are staying versus me just pointing them in the right direction." "Direction to-" "You're asking too many questions, friend." "The name's Francis." "I didn't ask your name." "You know what I think?" "I don't give a rat's azz-." "I think… well, even in the dark, I can see you look pretty healthy, which means you have at least an adequate food supply. Also, even though I know this bike model is over twenty years old, possibly thirty, it looks darn near brand new, which means you have access to supplies and tools." Snerb pulls out his knife, its silver blade catching in the flickering firelight, which once again startles the man called Francis. But when Snerb tosses it into his bag, he relaxes. Francis suddenly leans back on the bucket. "Hey, I want to apologize. You gave me a meal, and all I did was pepper you with questions. I guess you see why I'm alone." "The thought never crossed my mind," Snerb says, not hiding his sarcasm. At all. Francis leans in, even more, extending his right hand, "I'm going to continue on my way. Good luck finding your people." Snerb is halfway to meeting the man's embrace when something metallic flashes from in Francis' left hand. Snerb and Francis' right hands connect in a close brotherly embrace. Still, when Francis pulls his good samaritan in closer to plunge the blade he thought he had hidden cleverly hidden in his left hand, he hears a muffled blast, followed by an intense burning sensation in his lower abdomen. Having never been shot before, Francis couldn't comprehend what the feeling should feel like. This was, of course, before his strength started to wane before the ground came up to meet his face. Francis looked up at Snerb, who was casually gathering his things before getting on his bike. "If you're lucky… you'll bleed out before they come," Snerb says as he starts his bike up, purposely reviving it half a dozen times before putting it in gear. Then, before he pulls off, he looks down at the teary-eyed Francis and says, "Next time, if there is another next time for you, which I seriously doubt. Never bring a knife to a gunfight." Snerb speeds off, kicking up dirt and random debris in Francis's face, causing the man to painfully gag and convulse. As Francis feels himself struggle to remain conscious, he begins to hear the distinct sound of someone or something—gasping.
Last Edit: May 7, 2022 5:52:34 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle
It was rare that all of PSR left the paper factory all at once, but it was Nas' suggestion they attend this social gathering where people freely traded goods and possibly made some connections. Initially, Fleet was having no part of this, openly stating this was a perfect place to get robbed. Nas countered Fleet's argument by saying that if all of PSR attended, it lessens the chance of any shady dealings. Finally, after twenty minutes of frustrated back and forth, Fleet bent to Nas' idea. Three days later, the Excursion and Tahoe pulled up right next to one another at the gathering's parking lot. Upon arriving, Fleet was ecstatic to discover many items they needed that were available for trade in relation to items they had in abundance. Fleet even made a few friends, which may seem kind of pointless since exchanging phone numbers was a thing of the past, a past that may never come around again. An older man named Bud, who had a southern accent so thick that Fleet and Nas thought it was fake, shared jokes so powerfully poignant in this new world; they had Fleet laughing so hard, he was nearly in tears. Bud continued to scan the crowd, pointing out the oddity of how one man they saw was somehow still overweight in a world where food was scarce. Seconds later, the wily man pointed out that every woman is now suddenly a ten without makeup because nobody cares anymore. The laughing stopped when Bud locked eyes on EagleRob and Jerry. "And can you look at these two," Bud says as he wagged his right index finger in their direction. "Who the @#$# let the [email protected]#!#@$s in?" To the several PSR members within earshot, Modo, E-Nice, and Bucky'sRevenge, they all let out a collective gasp before their hands started to maneuver towards their firearms. Fleet slightly lowered his head in Bud's direction, his left eyebrow creating a near nighty-degree arch. "What did you just say?" "Them [email protected]#QT%$#s over there!" Bud said, this time even louder, loud enough for both EagleRob and Jerry to hear as they both shot the older man a sinister glare. Jerry began moving towards the man's direction before EagleRob used both hands to keep her in place. "Look at that! Now they mad! Get angry quick, they do." Bud said as he raised his arms in a 'what you want?' gesture. "I've got my guys with me here. So don't have to worry about no funny business out here today." "Hey, man! Fleet said before turning to face the man. "You ever think those human beings got friends too?" From Bud's point of view, the man who stood before him appeared to grow in both size and stature as the sky before him suddenly darkened. Even the air he breathed in somehow felt--thicker. The time it took Bud to get through two blinks, Fleet's hand wrapped perfectly around the back of Bud's neck with the ease with which an average man would grab a toddler's. Bud tried his best to prevent what he considered was the commencement of some sort of physical attack. Unfortunately for Bud, Fleet was just too strong, too fast. Fleet pulled Bud's head down to his knee with such power and force that his nose immediately exploded into a crimson fountain. Fleet then quickly pulled out his 9mm, cocked it, and detonated a round an inch from Bud's left earlobe. Bud's mind goes into a rapid state of confusion as it tried to determines if stanching the flow of blood from his nasal passages or cupping the muffled ringing from his left ear should take the highest priority. As expected, Bud's friends quickly raised their weapons upon Fleet, releasing all forms of protests and expletives. But, then, nearly a dozen weapons become trained on Bud's people with the slightest head's nods, near imperceivable to those around him. "Uh, just to make it clear," Nas says aloud. "Not all of our people present have their guns drawn." As Bud's friends nervously scan the crowd of faces near the group's rear, Becks, Lige, and 610 stealthily and strategically reposition themselves to the most strategic firing angles. E-Nice walks over to the closet of Bud's men, forcing his gun down. "Nobody needs to die tonight." Upon seeing this, Bud's other men follow suit. Fleet walks over to the bloody Bud, and instead of pummeling him some more, something he really wants to do really bad, he instead lifts his head up so he can look him eye to eye. "You listen here and listed GOOD! That effin vaccine killed or mutated probably ninety-five percent of the population. Our remaining five percent need to fall to the ground and graciously the almighty that we are still among the living and that he gave us a second chance. With this second chance, we have to be better than what we were the first time around, which means walking away from the ills that we've allowed us to be divided. For God's sake, we don't have time for that sort of ignorance anymore. We all have to work together now because if we don't, we might as well have died by the vaccine because we aren't worthy to be living!" And with that, Fleet silenced his words and stormed off in the direction of his Tahoe. Seconds later, the rest of PSR followed up his rear, their weapons still held tightly in their hands, just in case somebody got foolish and wished to prematurely meet their maker.
Last Edit: May 7, 2022 5:52:13 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle
Most importantly, to the driver of the Ford Excursion, it was a Lo day.
The light rain that pelted the Excursion's windshield was just heavy enough to force Lo to place his wipers on its lowest setting, which crisscrossed over his vision every twenty-five seconds. Accompanying him on this journey were E Nice, Lige, and Nubulator. Today's venture was vital, as their supplies were running low, and if they didn't discover food soon, they'd have to take more drastic measures. A couple of days ago, E Nice discovered some maps pointed to a food distribution warehouse, whose identifying markers and signs of said building were ripped off from the front facade seemingly by those who didn't wish to share to the world what fine fortunes were withing inside. "I have a bad feeling about this!" Lige says as the Excursion pulls around to the rear of the building. "Thanks for that info Solo," responds E Nice wearingly. "Did you come to that conclusion before or after we all saw the overturned van with the random bodies lying about?" E Nice's words were kind regarding what lay before the group has over a dozen bodies in various forms of decay were sprinkled between the rear of the center, leading all the way to an overturned cargo van. "What do you see here?" Lige announces to his fellow passengers. After a pause, Nubalator taps the back of his seat. "I'm far from a crime scene specialist, but I would conclude these dead guys here tried to break in and probably encountered some sort of resistance from inside. So they tried to make a break for it and failed, leading to the driver losing control and crashing." "That's great and all," Lo says as he exits the Excursion, scanning his surroundings before ducking back inside. Judging by the fact that these guys don't look more than a few days dead, it's easy to conclude that there's still a threat present. The last thing I want to do today is end up dead." Three of the four excursion members departed the Excursion, leaving Lige, who had been wounded in his left leg during the departure from PSR West Coast. When questioned on his effectiveness in going out in the field, he quickly replied, "I may not be running any marathons, but it hasn't affected my aim." Outside of 610 and Becks and Bucky'sRevenge's, Lige was the next best shot. As the others begin to walk away, Nubilator stopped long enough to turn back towards Lige, "Hey bud, if anyone comes, lay on the horn, and we'll come back to help." "@#QT%Q you!" Lige responded to Nubalator's taunt. When Lo, Nubulator, and E Nice arrived at the door, Lo's eyes narrowed on the wording scribbled on the side of the entrance in heavy magic markers. The words' #$%^#@# THE BLUE HATS lay directly below; THIS PROPERTY BELONGS TO THE NEW GOVERNMENT. TRESPASSERS WILL FACE SWIFT AND IMMEDIATE JUSTICE! "More like immediate injustice," E Nice stated slily. When the group was about to enter, Nubulator's eyes landed on something silver and white amongst the debris. Seconds later, Nubulator revealed a silver Colt-45 revolver with a gleaming white handle to the group. "Dirty Harry?" E Nice stated. "Don't come across too much .45 ammo out here. In this world, I doubt it's even loaded. "I don't even know how to open it," Nubulator said before handing it to Lige. Lige inspected the gun and barrel before returning it. "One armor-piercing round left. When you finally use this bad-boy… make it count!" The group returned their focus to their primary objective as they all turned toward the entrance. When the double doors freely opened, Nubulator warned his comrades, "Oh, I'm really not liking this!" "We've come too far not to see this through, Nubulator," Lo says. "But I wholeheartedly agree with you. I'd feel better if this door was secure." The three PSR members spread out, their guns drawn, their flashlights on with angled hoods that reflect their illumination to the floor instead of out in front of them. It takes the group fifteen minutes of disappointment to quickly conclude the obvious. "This place is dead!" E Nice states woefully. "Copy that!" Lo said. "We look like we were too late for the party a couple of days," Nubilatior adds. "Sh]t! We really needed that food! Let's do one last scan and get the $%#@qr%# out of here. I'm not too happy about leaving Lige out there by himself." "Lige can handle himself!" Lo says. "I know that," Nubialtor responds. "It's just that he has a unique ability for trouble to find him." Outside in Lo's Excursion, Lige scans his surrounding environment like a seasoned sentry, which is why he almost had a heart attack when a young brunette tapped lightly on his passenger side front window. Lige quickly whipped around, nearly scaring the woman to death, when she saw Lige's pistol suddenly materialize in his hand. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry to disturb you, but I need your help!" "My help?' Lige inquired. "Yes! The woman quickly responded. "I was here days ago when this place was raided. Blue Hats swooped in and killed everyone, but they didn't realize that one of the guys got away… well, sorta got away. He must have gotten shot but somehow managed to make it around the corner before crashing. I peaked in the rear window and saw food inside. Only problem is, I can't get inside. Help me get inside, and we can split the food. I'm telling you, the van is filled to the brim with food. I'm talking weeks full!" Lige regarded the women speculatively. "How do I know you aren't double-crossing me?" To Lige's shock, she removed her entire top, showing how not only did she not bear any weapons on her upper body, but it exposed her waistline, showing tightly fit pants that didn't have room for any hidden weapons. After Lige pushed his eyes back into his skull, he refocused his attention back on the issue at hand. "Uh, well… I've got like five guys inside this store, I'm going to wait for them to come out so they can help. "There's no time!" the woman frantically let out. "I've got my five-year-old in my car, and I don't want to keep her out here any longer than I've already done. Lige cursed himself for stepping down from the Excursion's interior, but not before grabbing Lo's crowbar from the front dash. As much as he knew his move was foolish, he could personally guarantee that their trip was a success if this woman was telling the truth. Five minutes went by before the frightened woman-led Lige to the rear of the cargo van. Lige withdrew Lo's bar and was seconds from jamming it into the narrow gap between both doors when a shadow suddenly emerged in his viewpoint towards the rear of the van's exterior. For the second time in ten minutes, Lige cursed himself, as he had just enough time to have glanced in the woman's direction and noticed she didn't seem surprised by the shadow's appearance. Lo wanted to scream out a warning to his friends, but a sharp blow to his head silenced even the slighted notion of this. When Lige woke up, the sun started to set in the western sky. As he peeled himself off the ground, his head pulsed with shockwaves of pain as if Iron Mike himself was giving left hooks to his cerebellum. The veteran PSR staggered haphazardly around the corner, excitement surging into his heart as Lo's Excursion was still where it was left, "At least I haven't been left behind," Lige concludes. That being said, E Nice and the others weren't anywhere in sight. To Lige, they could be inside the warehouse still or somewhere else looking for him, not knowing that their friend was less than two hundred yards away. Lige was several hundred feet inside when he heard the alien voices to him, all except one. As luck would have it, the voices suddenly turned towards the entryway as if they somehow detected his presence. Lige instinctually reached for a weapon at his hip that was no longer there. "I swear I heard a door open," muttered the woman who betrayed Lige's trust. "It's probably the others returning. Let's kill them so we can get their vehicle and get the @#$#% out of here before it gets dark. I don't want to be out of here when it gets dark!" "NONE of us want to be out here when it gets dark!" one of her male companions stated. Lige began backing up, his heartbeat increasing, which brought back his once mellowing headache as he couldn't figure out whether to run back outside or find someplace to hide. As his attackers had turned the corner, their flashlights seconds from converging on his position, a heavy hand suddenly pushed him to the floor and immediately released a hail of bullets into the direction of the flashlights source. Lige heard a feminine scream before one of the flashlights fell hard to the floor, canceling its light seconds before its wielder lay next to it. The woman and the other man, the larger man who was probably responsible for knocking him, split up in separate directions. The man did multiple twists and turned in a valiant hope to find the emergency exit he found a few days ago. Two turns later, his flashlight invertedly gave his location to the entire interior and ran right into Nubulator. Seconds later, that same flashlight fell to the floor, but unlike his now deceased comrade, this man's flashlight stayed lit as it illuminated both men's direction. The man would have pulled out his gun, but he dropped his gun out of fear in the previous firefight. He then looked up at the Nubulator, who put his gun away. You sure you want to put that away?" The much larger man said as he regarded Nubilator mockingly, "You have no chance against me without it!" "That's debatable!" Nubilator spits back. "But because we are low on time, and bullets are at a premium, you aren't worth me expending them. Besides… I have other ways on how not to play fair." E Nice appeared to magically emerge out of the darkness from the man's left side, Delivering a right haymaker to the left side of his jaw, felling him hard to the ground. The man tried to stand up, using both hands to brace himself off the floor. He was almost to his knees when Nubulator stomped down on his right hand, crushing multiple bones and causing the man to fall back to the floor. Back up front, the woman who had tricked Lige held her hands up high in Lo and Lige's presence. "So you were going to take MY SUV?" That's my Exco! Me and her have been through a lot together." "I'm sorry!" the woman said in a pleading whimper. "Those guys… they grabbed me and made me do this!" Lo and Lige looked at one another before turning their attention back to the woman. "You expect us to believe that?" "Ask him!" the woman pleaded as her voice began to break. "He'll tell you how my car broke down not far from here, and they've had me ever since. "These guys are straight up sick!!! I'm glad that you killed the other one. I'll be happy if you do the other one as well." "We'll see once the others bring your buddy back," Lo says. As if on cue, E Nice and Nubulator drag the big man back from the rear, his eyes glistening in the low light provided by Lo. The man looked up, noticing that his companion was also secured, and knew if he didn't act now, he might never get the chance. The man lowered his shoulder into E Nice, taking him completely off his feet. Then, he swung around head-bunted Nubulator in the head in the same motion. Before Nubulator knew what was going on, the man had his gun, holding it awkwardly in his left hand. The large man spun around just in time to come face to face with Lo's weapon, already trained for the middle of his forehead. The man's eyes became large as soccer balls as he dug deep in his mind for something to prevent the inevitable. Lo's gun went off, causing everyone within five feet to clutch their ears momentarily. Then, as the others recovered to their feet, Lige turned back to the woman, who, however brief of a moment, never appeared to become joyous when the large man turned the tide. Lige recovered his gun, which was earlier dropped by the large man, giving it a thorough once over while Lo apologized to the woman. "I'm sorry about what happened to you. Btw, is that van out there really filled with food?" "It is, but it's broken down. These guys just wanted to kill you, steal your SUV, and transfer the van's food over," the woman states. "Tell you what," Lo states plainly. "We need this food, and so do you. So let's either split it, or you can come with us. We have a nice, safe place with a couple of ladies, so it won't be a total sausage-fest." The woman considered Lo's words briefly before a smile came across her face. "I'll roll with you guys." E Nice recovered Lige's crowbar and was seconds from prying the back of the van open when the woman playfully withdrew a key. With the five of them, just as the sun had fully set, the Excursion was fully stocked in minutes. "Just in time!" Nubulator states. "I have no desire of being out here any moment longer." Lige smiled warmly, handing his recovered gun back to the woman. "We should be okay, but just in case, it can't help to have another person armed on the way back. The four men began making their way towards each door of the Excursion, its exterior lights and interior coming to life as Lo unlocked its five doors. E Nice was second from getting his rear driver-side door opened when a maniacal laugh erupted from the vehicle's rear. "I can't believe you guys!!!" the woman said, her gun raised in E Nice's direction. I can't believe you guys are this gullible! What were you pre-vaccine? Sunday school teachers?" Nubulator walked around the back of the passenger side of the Excursion, his hands raised. "What do you want?" "What the @#[email protected] you think I want?" the woman said, her mannerism between anger and fear as her darkened surroundings are starting to get to her psyche. "I want Lo's SUV! HURRY!" "And what the @$#%$#W are we supposed to do?" Lo asked. "You know what's coming!" The woman shrugged her shoulders uncaringly. "I guess you die!" Nubulator slowly lowered his hands as he closed his distance from the woman, "There's only one problem with this entire situation." The woman did not budge from her position. Instead, tightening the grip on Lo's gun allowed her to encourage her resolve. "I swear on all that's holy that I will close-range execute you all!" Lige walked up behind Nubulator, his smile matching his comrades. Her patience waning, the woman lined up Lige in her sights and fired. Lige exploded in anger. "I've been on this planet nearly two and a half times as you. Do you really think I'd hand you a loaded weapon? Especially after how everything that went down initially between us!" The woman squeezed the trigger five more times before Lige reached over and snatched the gun from her hand. By the time Lige turned back towards the passenger front door, the rest of his brethren were already back inside the Excursion, its engine already firing up. "WAIT!" the woman pleaded. "I'm sorry! Please! Don't leave me out here like this. Take me with you. I'll do anything! What am I supposed to do??? The Excursion pulled off, eventually performing a complete 180-degree turn, as Lige stuck his head out the window as he sped by. "We expect you do the same thing you suggested we do." The woman called out to the fleeing SUV several more times before it finally hit her that drawing attention to herself in this way was not a good idea. She heard movement coming from the direction of the entry of the warehouse. Without the glowing exterior of the Excursion, she couldn't make out what it was, but her mind had already concluded it wasn't friendly. So the woman sped for the only palace where she knew she had a chance. By the time she got to the rear of the van, a sigh of cooling relief had washed over her that made her body tingle as her ears picked up on movement closing in on her position from all around. "I just need to make it through the night!" the woman thought as she opened the rear door, hopped in, and swiftly closed the door behind her. "I won't have food, but got-damnit… I'll be alive to see another day!" Seconds later, the very same door began to open, causing her to nearly have a heart attack before scampering back to the door and pulling it back shut. But, unfortunately, every time she'd pull it shut, the resistance on the other side began pulling it open again. In this war of attrition, the woman, whose cherry cheeks were now wet with fresh tears, knew that the likelihood of her being able to keep up with this level of resistance all night was doubtful. Back in the Excursion, Lo stared at Lige in the somber light, "Why are you so quiet?" "Been a long day," was Lige's response. But inside his heart was a true heaviness as his mind took him back to the moment where he sabotaged the lock of the food van, knowing that if all went well with their situation, his actions wouldn't cause anyone harm. But, with that being said, if they were betrayed, Lige's plan would make sure that no one would ever be tricked again by this individual.
Last Edit: May 7, 2022 6:41:23 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle
Combat is essential. Effective combat meant the difference between life and death. Shortly after PSR West Coast fell, Fleet prioritized that all PSR become combat-ready. Bucky'sRevenge and Becks had military training and they took turns training the members. Six hundred ten used his training to teach the latest police self-defense tactics as an officer. While EagleRob, who lacked both military and officer training, used his skills as a boxing trainer to teach footwork and proper boxing training. A few black eyes, swollen lips, and a chipped tooth later, PSR may not be able to combat a trained battalion, but they were far from being non-formidable. After Lige and the others implemented their skills on the food run, it was time to take it to the next step. That next phase began as quickly and as loud as Fleet insisted, as Lo's Excursion tore down the streets that led past the former army barracks, now staging facility of the Blue Hats. The three guards on duty never got a chance to raise their assault rifles because, in their heads, nobody in their right mind would attack a Blue Hats facility. By the time they knew what was occurring, Lo was on top of them, screaming expletives at the top of his head, firing shots from his revolver. At the same time, in the driver's side rear, BearCat tossed out every insult in his arsenal, insulting sisters, mothers, and even grandmothers as his pistol screamed to life. As many bullets went by, both men went out of their way to ensure none of the guards were hit. Finally, two black vans screamed out of the parking lot, both vehicles filled with Blue Hats. At the corner, Lo had slowed down just enough for the driver of the first van to see him before he turned the corner and sped down the street. Soon as he turned, a black Kawasaki Ninja screamed by its rider, Snerb, and Lo, sharing a brief head nod as the motorcycle turned down the street towards the barracks. As Snerb approached the vans, he stealthily withdrew a silver handgun and planted three bullets into the bottom rear of both vans. While the first van pursues Lo, the second one slams on its breaks perform a 180, and goes after the motorcycle. As Snerb speeds past the barracks, he switches hands and begins firing at its naked gray exterior. Seconds later, an older Nissan Quest tore out of the barracks, turning sharply into the street that the suspension whined about keeping the vehicle from turning over. When the Snerb turns west on the corner, he nods his head in the direction of the black Chevy Tahoe on the adjacent corner. The driver looks over his five companions, nodding his head approvingly, "You're up! Snerb's did his part. With any luck, he's nailed one, if not both, of those vehicles' gas tanks, which will cancel their pursuit. Even if he missed, at the very least, he at least got them to split, but with the way Lo drives, it's doubtful they would have been able to take him out anyway, but at least that's only one vehicle after him." Binger was the first one out of Fleet's SUV, a vast black on black Tahoe which wasn't as big as Lo's Excursion, but it was still a massive vehicle—followed by Becks out of the passenger side, Modo and Jerry. Seconds later, EagleRob climbed out of the third row and pointed out that the tallest person shouldn't be in the third back row. "You didn't need to come along with us on this Fleet," Becks says before jogging away out of earshot. "I know," Fleet responds. "But I don't trust anyone with my #@$ truck! Don't forget! In and out in under five!" It was Fleet and Nas's plan to make this raid, for they knew if they had any chance of performing their ultimate goal, they would need weapons and ammunition. As it stood currently, PSR only had seven functioning handguns between them, two assault rifles that they kept for home defense, and a shotgun that jammed on almost every third shot. Despite their mini-arsenal, they didn't have enough ammunition to last a five-minute firefight. After Snerb heard of whispers of a Blue Hats HQ ten miles from their present location, Fleet and Nas decided that if they performed multiple distractions, they just might have a chance to procure some good weapons. At the Blue Hats facility entrance, an angry officer forcibly jammed his handgun back in his holster, mad for failing to get himself ready in time to leave with the two vehicles that chased the SUV and the motorcycle. "@#%Q#@! he screamed to himself. "Haven't seen action in weeks, and just like that, it comes to our door front, and my boys left me!" The man began removing his vest when an upset, light-skinned black woman burst through the door, screaming incoherently. The man reached for his gun with his right hand, all the while raising an open palm with his left. "Hold up, ma'am. I can't understand you." The woman bent over till her hands rested on her thighs, "There's… these guys are chasing me! They're like twenty feet behind me!" "I GOT A SITUATION OUT HERE!" the man screamed at the top of his head before withdrawing his weapon and storming past the woman and hitting the outdoors. But when the warm's day airbrushed him in the face, no pursuers were in sight. The only thing that appeared to be out of place was the large, black SUV parked across the street, which was odd considering how they cleared the road of vehicles so that no one could use them for cover as an assault. As the man's eyes narrowed on the SUV, his ears picked up that it was running, which sent an icy tingle through his body. He took a few steps forward, seconds from releasing a hail of bullets in the direction, when a calm voice called out behind him, "Hey!" The man turned around just in time for his world to turn black as the same woman who, seconds ago, required assistance slammed the butt of her pistol into the middle of his forehead. Inside, another man ran past, as another armed Blue Hat came running out, his assault rifle already held at the ready. "Jerry? JERRY? What's going on, man? Where did you go?" The woman barely held in her giggle before the officer turned his attention to her. "Where did he go? What did you do?" "PSR's Jerry put her face of desperation back on, as she insisted the Blue Hats Jerry went outside to settle a disturbance; hence his calling out. The man regarded Jerry wearingly as he rotated his focus between her and the front door. Suddenly a grenade rolled through the vestibule, causing the officer to scream out before tossing himself onto the floor. When the pending concussive blast failed to go off, the man who, moments ago, covered his head finally looked up in surprise. That's when Jerry's boot came down on his temple, taking him into a dreamland that, when he'd recover, he'd swear heard laughter before his traverse. "I can't believe you still use that @#%#$!" Modo said to EagleRob, as he picked up the fake grenade, shaking his head before tossing it back to his NFC East brethren. "If someone tossed one in your direction, do you want to find out the hard way it's not fake?" EagleRob said. "I wouldn't have fallen for it," Becks says as she nonchalantly steps over the officer's body while donning the first officer's vest. "You have the best eyes out of all of us," Binger says as he enters. "The rest of us will continue to play it safe. Now, let's fan out and search the rest of this place. It's doubtful they only left two guys behind." Becks taps Jerry on the shoulder, "Come with me, gal. Since this is a former barracks, I have an idea where the weapons locker will be. EagleRob found himself circling the rear hallway when he came face to face with a bear of a man exiting the bathroom. EagleRob let out a toothy grin, "Hey, the guys had to tear out of here because someone was shooting up the outside. I think they need you-" EagleRob's words were silenced in his throat as the man bull-rushed him into the adjacent wall, causing it partially splinter and fracture as it was not meant to contain the force of over five hundred pounds of weight. EagleRob fell to the ground, gasping for air that seemed content with not returning to his airwaves. The man knelt and began applying pressure to both sides of EagleRob's neck to choke him to death. Modo turned the corner just in time to see what was happening and chose to stay with his pistol for fear of injuring his comrade. Modo built up a head of steam, tossing his body at the large man like Faceman off of A-Team, only to bounce off the man's massive back, landing awkwardly on the floor. The man rose off of EagleRob, which Modo appreciated, only for him to turn his attention on himself, which he did not appreciate. "You like to attack from behind?" the man said with visceral indignation. Modo got into a self-defensive stance that 610 taught him, only for the giant man to charge through that stance and begin pounding Modo with blow after blow until the veteran Giants fan collapsed. Every attempt Modo attempted to the right himself, another blow found its mark along the sides of his face. A shotgun blast rang out, peppering the large man's upper left hip and torso, taking him to the ground and off of Modo. "Can't leave you guys for even a second!" Binger says with the smoldering shotgun. "You weren't even gone for two minutes, and already you were getting your azzes handed to ya!" Struggling to the right himself, Modo pointed the finger towards a wheezing EagleRob, "Blame him! That dude literally had EagleRob getting ready to see the great light." As Binger helped both men to their feet, the unthinkable happened as their attacker returned to his feet. Binger cocked his shotgun, only to have it go off towards the ceiling as the man slapped it upward. The man then plucked the shotgun from Binger's hand and immediately reversed its grip. Half a second later, Binger immediately became wide-eyed as he stared down the massive barrel of his own gun. The large man squeezed the trigger, allowing Binger to smile as no blast was released. As the battle for the shotgun renewed, from the large man's right side, EagleRob closed the distance, immediately shifting into his boxer's stance and unleashed a devastating body-shot to the man's ribcage. Upon impact, EagleRob recoiled in tremendous pain. "VEST!" the veteran Eagle fan screamed. "No wonder he's not dead… yet," Binger said, still struggling with his weapon. Modo rejoined the fight, this time in a different fighting stance taught by Bucky'sRevenge, and began showing roundhouse kicks to the large man's head. "No vest for above his neck." Seconds later, EagleRob joined in, delivering punch after punch on ahead so large that it was all but impossible to miss. Despite the man's size, he couldn't adequately defend himself from two attacking grown men. It took seconds for the man's posture to begin to falter. Suddenly, the man started to shake violently, stating that he couldn't breathe. The PSR members immediately seized their attack as the man dropped the shotgun and clutched the center of his chest as if it had an 'off-button' for the pain. "He's having a heart attack," Modo said. "Can't exactly call 9-1-1," EagleRob replied. "The best we can provide is poppin him a Motrin." Modo cut EagleRob a sharp eyebrow, "Yeah… pretty sure that's not going to work!" Binger scanned the hallways. "Shouldn't this place have a defibrillator?" "If they did, it's probably long gone now," Modo concludes. They watch silently as the man goes through his final death throes. "Something's not right here," Binger said, scratching his head with the butt of his shotgun. "He should have known to cocked the shotgun first. Then, he should have taken my head clean off my shoulders. Becks and Jerry loaded their giant duffle bags so high in the middle of the barracks, but women walked sideways because of the uneven weight distribution. They were making their way back to the front when Jerry heard a slight whimper from behind the door of a passing room, its entrance the only one in the barracks so far which was closed. With a head nod towards Becks, she lowered her bags and approached the door with her mini-flashlight and pistol in hand. Jerry quickly burst through the door to find one of the Blue Hats sitting behind a desk, nodding to music on his headphones before looking up. When the man finally looked up, Jerry was seconds from being on top of him. He reached for the right drawer in the cabinet, but Jerry used her moment to ram the front of the desk into him, slamming the drawer back into the wall and crushing his hand. The man screamed a guttural cry, but if Jerry thought the fight with this man was over, she was wrong. He turned the desk back around using his one good hand, narrowly missing Jerry. Becks came to the door, only to have it slammed in her face and locked by the Blue Hat. "You're dead!" the Blue Hat screamed at Jerry. Jerry locked eyes with her larger opponent and laughed. "And you're too close!" What happened next would have made Becks smile if she could see through the locked door. Instead, Jerry pulled out her knife, jabbing her larger opponent in his left thigh, separating two of the four quad muscles. For the second time in moments, the man screamed aloud as he collapsed to his left knee. Jerry whipped out the knife from the man's thigh, contemplated for a second finishing him, but instead jammed her knife into the man's temple handle first. On the other side of the door, Becks wanted to shoot the handle, but without knowing exactly where Jerry was, she didn't want to risk friendly fire. She did know that all the screaming wasn't coming from her. Seconds later, the door opened, and she followed Jerry towards a closet-sized door in the corner of the room. Jerry opened the door, and both Becks and herself nostrils stung to the smell of body older and excrement. With Becks focusing her light, they converged on a small, naked woman, who skulked away from the light as if it were something tangible that could harm her." "I hope what I see here isn't what I think it is," EagleRob says woefully behind Becks and Jerry. Neither Becks nor Jerry answered as the first one entered the room right away, while the second grabbed a windbreaker hanging over the back of a nearby chair. EagleRob, Modo, and Bema gave the ladies space, but even from twenty feet away, they could hear the sobs of the woman as she told her story, which was quickly followed up by the two veteran PSR members, who, at this point in their lives thought they heard everything. Minutes later, when Fleet saw his PSR members exit the barracks, seemingly unscathed since none seemed to walk with any sort of hindrance in their gait. As Fleet scanned the bodies again, he realized they were returning with a plus one, which annoyed him because of their limited resources. When Becks did her best to paraphrase the woman's plight, whose name was Krista, it sickened everyone in the Tahoe to near revulsion. According to Krista, she was traveling with her brother and her younger cousin three weeks ago when their car ran out of gas about a mile from where they were living at. Krista said they were halfway home, and even though the sun was setting, they were semi-confident that they'd make it back home before the sun fully set. Without seeing any vehicles for hours, two black SUVs pulled over with BlueHats inside. They were kind at courteous at first, explaining how their civic duty was to make sure everyone got home safely before the sunset. Krista said her brother and cousin were more than happy to get this escort, as they were starting to feel a little nervous about the losing light. After giving them directions to the general area where they lived, they quickly realized they weren't being taken home. Instead, they were taken not to the barracks but to a furniture store, where once they were let out at gunpoint, she and her cousin were separated from her brother, who she later discovered had escaped. Krista stated that she doesn't think her brother escaped but was killed because he was high-strung and good with firearms. When it was her time, Krista said she was thrown into one of the SUVs and taken to the barracks, where her true nightmare began. No words were said inside the Tahoe as Fleet accelerated through the intersection as he kept his head facing forward, the plastic of the steering wheel constantly whining from the PSR leader re-acquiring his grip. "Here's the thing, Fleet," Jerry added. "They weren't even Blue Hats. They were frauds… Wanna-be's. Two of them started off as Blue Hats, got kicked out for doing some foul-ish like this, and we around recruiting some thugs until they attacked and killed some real Blue Hats and stole their gear." "I knew it!" Binger exploded from the Tahoe's third row. "I knew something was up when that guy didn't know he had to rack a shotgun." "What now, Fleet?" Modo asked. Fleet heavily sighed before allowing an elongated pause to grip the vehicle as if Fleet had to consider his following words, his next course of action. "We will take Krista home and get her all patched up. And then tomorrow, after freeing her cousin and the others, we are going to come back here and burn this place down to the @#%$%# ground!"
Last Edit: May 8, 2022 12:26:05 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle
When a familiar series of knocks came to the barricaded grey doors of the former Sit and Save, the person on the other side of the door couldn’t believe his eyes, blinking several times as Krista, a former prisoner, banged on the door repeatedly, demanding the release of her cousin, Jenny. When the man on the other side of the door opened the door and tried to snatch her inside quickly, a pair of hands grabbed him and dragged him outside, as he screamed for assistance from those inside. His companions stormed outside, their guns out, still attempting to place their blue berets on their heads accurately. From their viewpoint, a middle-aged man-tank used their friend as a human shield as he backed away from them, preventing them from getting a clear shot. “You’re dead, mutha#@%!” said the first out of doors. The half dozen men had just entered the street when the roar of a bus engine sped their way, its brakes squealing to a near-deafening tone. The men all looked up at once and saw the bus barreling in their direction, but after colliding with one another, none made it out of the way before getting steamrolled. By the time the bus stopped, its victims were mangled portions of meet twenty-five yards behind. “Darnit Blue!” Nas says over his shoulder as he exits the bus. “Hey, I tried to stop!” Blue responded, his hands raised high in the air. “You know how this thing is.” Having taken out half of the resistance in the first thirty seconds, Blue, BearCat, Bema, and Krista poured through the front entrance, quickly followed by Jerry and Becks. At the store’s rear dock, two men burst the back exit, the second of whom carried a massive walkie-talkie with an extended battery clip. The man was frantic, screaming at the top of his lungs, “We’re being hit. WE’RE BEING HIT! I’m telling you, we’ve got guys down. Send help right away!” <Brief Pause> “I have no idea if these are the same guys not from yesterday! If I manage to get one, I’ll ask for ID?” “Need ID?” a grisly voice said as Fleet circled from behind the dumpster. The first man, who already had his weapon drawn, tried to raise it, but Fleet was on top of his so quickly that he never got a chance to raise it chest level before Fleet swatted it from his grip like it was a toy before applying both hands to the guy’s neck. “You people… MAKE… ME… SICK!” Fleet said, pulling the guy’s face inches from his own. Walky-talky man contemplated returning to the store, but Nas, who had moved in swiftly behind Fleet, was having none of that, grabbing the guy by the side of his head and slamming it into the rear wall and somehow managing to catch the falling radio out of the air before it struck the ground. ‘Dale? Chip? What’s going on over there? Answer me NOW!” After tossing his foe into the nearby dumpster, Nas offered the radio to Fleet, who waved him off. Bringing his hips to the receiver as close as possible would out making physical contact Nas slyly relents, “Dale and Chip won’t be coming to the radio. Not now… not ever!” Krista was taking no prisoners inside the store as every man she laid eyes on caught a bullet, even the men who weren’t attempting to put up much of a fight. These actions gave Blue and the others enough pause to question the veracity of her actions verbally. “If you knew what I’ve been through here…” Krista spit. “Then you wouldn’t be questioning my motive. Besides, didn’t you just run several men over out front? As Krista turned and sped off down the next hallway, leaving the other members of PSR wondering what they’ve just gotten them into.. Three miles away, a dozen men poured out of the barracks, piling into two black SUVs, with the last one stating as he closed the door, “I don’t like this! It’s like we are getting set up… again.” Two seconds later, both SUVs exploded, shattering windows of the front of the barracks and tossing the four heavily armed men who stood guard outside off their feet. Clutching their ears and twisting their heads around to fight through the confusion, the guards tried their best to mount a defense. But, unfortunately for them, Bucky’sRevenge, Modo, 610, Binger, and EagleRob were on top of them, delivering kicks to the side of their head that brought them entirely over the edge of unconsciousness. EagleRob was the first to the door, digging deeply into the left side of his jacket. “Don’t!” Modo warned. But it was too late, as EagleRob tosses his fake grenade through the shattered glass doorway. “Seriously???” 610 says. “You still use that thing? People aren’t going to fall for.” “OH #@[email protected]!” numerous voices cry in unison before the sound of bodies thumping to the floor. 610 and the others pour in, quickly disabling the remaining men, but not before 610 angrily yells at their prisoners, “It’s fake!” He then kicks the fake grenade in the forehead of the last man, causing him to melt face-first into the floor. “Fan out!” 610 days. “You know what we came to do!” 610 flows through the barracks, spritzing paint thinner they got from the paper factor along the walls of every room. “You do this?” a voice called out from behind him. 610 wheeled around and came face to near face with a man who took up nearly the entire doorway. He was standing right over the top of an equally sized man with a sheet over his body. The man already had his gun out and pointed in his direction. The man had 610 dead to rights, so he knew not to go for his gun would be an immediate death sentence. “Uh… do what?” 610 muttered uneasily as his eyes scanned the area for something to grab onto “Kill my brother!” the man said. “You killed my brother yesterday.” “My man... I wasn’t even here yesterday! So you can't blame me!” 610 replied. The large man fired a bullet at point-blank range, striking 610 in the lower abdomen, causing him to fall back to the desk behind him. When 610’s cries of pain are slightly too vocal for a man who’s just been shot at close range, the large man steps even closer to the fallen PSR veteran. “Not dead, huh?” Releasing a pain-filled cough, 610 says, “Sure feel’s like it!” What 610 sees following causes the former officer’s life to flash before his eyes as the large man douses him with the same accelerant he himself would use to torch the building. The man flicks his lighter, causing 610 to try his best to squirm out of the way of the inevitable when a voice behind the man catches his attention. “I killed your brother!” Nubulator lies as he reaches for the rear belt where the found Colt-45 resides. The large man charged out of the office, and just as he was a foot from engaging with Nubulator, EagleRob caught the man with a devastating body blow from his left side, timing his punch perfectly as the large man emerged from the office. Unfortunately for both men, the large man effortlessly absorbed the punch as he backhanded EagleRob out of his line of sight and lifted Nubulator off his feet and into the air, causing him to drop the Colt. “Hey, I’m not the one who punched you!” Nubulator said before the large man body-slammed onto the hard halfway carpet. EagleRob tried to attack anew, but the large man, who was somehow fast as a panther, turned in time to punch the Eagle veteran right underneath his throat, falling him for the second time in twenty seconds. Then, from out of nowhere, Modo leaped on the man’s back, quickly realizing his mistake as the man didn’t seem to wither under the veteran Giant’s weight. Instead, the large man drove himself backward into the adjacent wall, making Modo feel something pop on the side of his lower abdomen. After Modo falls, the man grips up Nubulator and begins choking him. “ENOUGH!” 610 yells after staggering up to one knee, Nubulator’s gun in his hand. The large man wheeled in his direction, not even bothering to use Nubulator as a shield. “What are you going to do with that? Make me mad?” 610 turns the gun slightly to get a better look at what he’s wielding before squinting his left eye down the barrel of his pistol. “You are about to be one pissed-off dude!” “No!” Nubulator protests, causing the large man to increase his grip. “Lige said there’s only one round left, and it has to count. Using it on-” 610 quickly whips out his gun and fires one round, penetrating the large man’s giant forehead, taking him and Nubulator to the ground.” “Damn, dude!” Nubulator says towards 610 before helping him up. 610 gingerly begins peeling away his paint thinner stained jacket away from his vest. “What do you want? I don’t shoot to maim or injure. I shoot to neutralize the threat. This guy and his would have had no problem killing us. And that’s before his brother factored into the equation.” EagleRob, surging to his feet, turns 610’s direction. “What did you do that for? I was just about to get up in his azz!” Gripping his left side tenderly, a wheezing Modo coughs out, “I was coming to tell you guys that we had cleared the left side of the building.” “How did that work out for us?” Nubulator says, also struggling to his feet. Binger rounded the corner, shotgun in hand. Awe, man… did I miss all the fighting?” “It means that powerful wounded and stinking of paint thinner, we are all alive,” Modo concludes. Back at the Sit and Save, Krista is a one-woman army as she shoots first and doesn’t bother to answer questions later while going from room to room executing the men who had held her. “Slow down, gal!” Jerry demanded. “We’d like a chance to question somebody.” Krista fired a round through a door at head-level, smiling when she heard the delicious sound of the back of a hard head hitting an even harder floor. Becks narrows her eyes for a second as she’s blown away at Krista’s gunplay. “Up ahead, the girls are being held in the next room,” Krista announces. Krista enters the room seconds before Becks and Jerry, and for the first time since joining the furniture store, she has no choice but to slow down finally. Standing next to her cousin Jenny, one man stands alone, wielding a small revolver at her temple. “Krista! I don’t know how you got out or who these people are here, but I know that I’m going to get out of here. Or else.” Krista raises her hand in surrender, which gives Becks and Jerry the message to the same. “How are you going to get out of here? You heard that explosion; that was your transportation!” The man gives Krista a sinister look, “I’m assuming you guys didn’t walk!” Krista yells towards the front of the store, “Fleet! Give this man the keys to your Tahoe!” A deep voice bellows out somewhere near the front, “Tell your momma to give up the keys to her Tahoe!” When the man arrives at the front, Fleet dangles a set of vehicle keys from his left index finger. “You mess up my truck…” “No funny stuff!” the man says as he snatches the keys from Fleet and nearly jogs his way out of the store while dragging Jenny in tow. The man pushed Jenny in the passenger seat, then pushed her over to the side of the driver’s seat. Jenny starts the SUV, and just before she puts the Tahoe in gear, two hands belonging to Nas appear to almost materialize behind her abductor, seizing him quickly before half-dragging him over the passenger’s seat. The man began flailing about, as other PSR members rushed in from all sides. “Someone…” Nas pleaded loudly. “Someone please grab that #Q%#@q$ gun!” BearCat dove through the window of the passenger side, locking both his arms around the man’s shooting arm. But just when BearCat thought he had him secure, a deafening gunshot went off in the Tahoe. Nas looked over the driver headrest and a tremendous pain went through his gut as he saw Jenny’s head suddenly flop to the left side. Nas let out a thunderous yell of frustration, which was only broken when Fleet broke through Nas’s grip, and seized Jenny's captor around his neck. As Fleet began pulling the man out, BearCat managed to tear the gun away. Krista fell to her knees, crying out over the revelation of her sister being shot. Fleet took a long look at the woman before distancing himself from the others, while the man he held still tried his best and failed to free himself from his clutches. From the first moment Fleet saw the man dragging Jenny towards his Tahoe, all he wished for is to get a chance to do something nasty to him; perhaps choke the living life out of the man. And that’s what Fleet did. Half an hour later, after removing anything of value from the Sit and Save, Fleet and company departed, meeting up with Nubulator and the others at a scheduled point halfway to determine neither party had a tail. So soon as Nubulator stepped around to talk with Fleet, Krista’s eyes locked in on the gun tucked in the waistband. Krista was already despondent after the loss of Jenny. Something about that moment moving forward caused her to be nearly non-verbal. When allowed to live with the rest of PSR, she declined, opting to be returned to where she used to live and gather the remaining pieces of her life. Despite PSR’s actions to rescue her, many in the group couldn’t help but internalize the feeling that Krista held them, especially Nas and BearCat, who found himself deeply saddened at the outcome.
Last Edit: May 9, 2022 4:40:27 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle
The next couple of weeks went by uneventful as the PSR faithful slowly got over the carnage from the barracks and the Sit and Save. Outside of Snerb, their unofficial scout, the rest did their best to stick close to home. Lige managed to get over his mental funk, preventing him from going on missions. The veteran PSR member eventually confided with Jerry about his guilt over the woman back at the food market. Jerry did her best to alleviate his grief by telling him that her actions sealed her fate, not boobytrap. Nas still had trouble dealing with the aftermath of Jenny, throwing around the different scenarios in which he had done something different, that she would have lived. BearCat, who blamed himself almost as much as Nas, threw himself into his work with the 4 B's, modifying the bus the best they could for their eventual departure. On this lightly rainy night, Bucky'sRevenge was dragged into helping the 4B's with the next level of extensive bus modifications. All was well in the rear of the paper factory when Modo, who was working watch that night from the second-floor rafter, suddenly began screaming, "It's Snerb! He looks like he's hurt!" By the time Snerb went to pull on the factory's back door, Lo and EagleRob had opened the door and caught him before he fell face-first. "What happened?" Nas yelled from the back. "I #@q#-ed up! I mean, I really #@q#@q$ things up! I'm sorry to say this, but I @#T$#@ up so bad that I think we need to strongly consider leaving tonight!"
Two hours ago, Snerb was riding through an area seven miles from the factory when the headlights of a Ford Focus flashed him near a narrow cutout between two factories. Seconds later, Snerb's Kawasaki Ninja pulled back around, stopping right outside the facing vehicle's passenger window. "You know…" the passenger said through his one-third-down cracked window. "This would be a lot easier if you just told me where you are holed up at." "That's not going to happen," Snerb replied sternly, but not angrily. "But you know where we live," the driver says, matching Snerb's tone and avoiding his eye contact. "Do I?" Snerb says. "Is that why every time I get close to that indoor target range, I'm flashed down. For all I know, you guys were just using that temporarily." The man in the passenger seat waves off Snerb's words with a smirk, "Hey, listen up! We've got something for you." He then begins sliding down his window. A chill runs down Snerb's back as he feels every muscle in his body start to tighten up. Immediately he begins yelling, "Hold up! Wait!" Snerb's left-hand raises as a gesture of patience while his right hand quickly clutches something cold and metallic tucked behind his rear belt. When Snerb sees something flash inside the passenger's left hand, Snerb's instinct of survival kicks in the only way this new world has taught him. The narrow, dark alleyway comes to life as a strobe light effect of muzzle flashes gives minute glimpses of Snerb delivering round after round of bullets into the Focus. The smell of the cordite is so powerful it stings his nose. Snerb fights off his instinct to jump back on his bike and burn tires out of this alley for fear of more combatants, but he can't help himself see what instrument of destruction these so-called new friends will use against him. Snerb reaches in, expecting to see the pearl handle of a fancy revolver similar to Nubulator's new toy, but all he finds clutched to dead fingers is a small, white envelope. If the revelation of this man he murdered for nothing wasn't bad enough to destroy Snerb, after reading the contents of the letter caused him to collapse against the far wall nearly. [Hey, Snerb. This is Peen, and I have CityofChamps and DiveB\tch with me. We lost contact with Fleet's radio days ago, but we were lucky to run into these guys who said they knew you. They asked us to write this letter to prove to you we are whom we say we are and to talk about the old ESPN days. These guys have been real chill with us and have been beyond hospitable. So whatever you have on you, man, give them some… for us. I hope to see you soon.] Snerb folded up the letter before vomiting on the rain-soaked ground. "I gave them something, all right! #@[email protected]^$ me!" "What does this even mean?" Lo asked as he gathered around the only candlelight of the breakroom. Slamming his right fist down into the palm of his left hand before looking deeply into Lo's eyes, "This means they are going to kill Peen and the others if we don't get them right now," Snerb says. Nas enters the breakroom, stopping at the doorway, "I don't get it. Why didn't you just torch the car? Make it seem like it was the Blue Hats?" Snerb leans back in his chair till its hinges groan under his weight. . "A lot was going on at once, Nas. I wasn't exactly thinking clearly. Right now, what we've got to do is go get Peen, Dive, and CityofChamps before they realize what I did. Every moment we wait gives them time to find their car. Their base knows they were coming out to meet me. It won't take them that long to figure it out." Minutes later, Nas brings Fleet up to speed with the night's events already going sideways; he decided to send some of PSR's finest into the dangerous night because it was deemed necessary. "We're going to continue packing, hoping that we won't have to leave tonight, but if we do, at least we'll be ready." Fifteen minutes later, Lo's Excursion thunders out away from the paper factory, manned and womaned by 610, Becks, E Nice, Bucky'sRevenge, and of course, Snerb. Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the warehouse where Snerb believed the others were who had rescued Peen and the others stayed. Lo parked the Excursion near the parking lot entrance just in case the conversation went sideways; the vehicle and its precious cargo wouldn't be in a direct line of sight. Two men armed with shotguns and weighted workout vests that in their minds doubled as protective vests opened the door with much suspicion as they weren't accustomed to getting visitors at all, especially at night. "It's Snerb. I think you guys should be expecting me." "Who's the dude with ya," one of the men asked. "One of my bud's E Nice, from my squad. You think I'd come out here at night by myself," Snerb says. One of the guard's eyes quickly narrows. "Oliver told us you are usually out here at night… alone." Snerb takes a cautious step forward, "Not when picking up friends. Kinda hard fitting everyone on my bike." After leading Snerb and E Nice to the front door, both guards stepped inside, allowing their building tension to release. "Wait right here, and we'll bring you your friends. Two minutes later, the front door opened, revealing an ecstatic DiveB\tch, Peen, and CityofChamps. Behind them, the same guards again, their faces not showing signs of welcome. E Nice picked up on this, but choose to raather focus on properly greeting his lost brethren. Seconds later, Snerb did the same, but while exchanging pleasentires, he could feel the eyes penetrating his soul. "Hey, where's Ted? Bill?" of of the guards finally asked. Snerb anticipated this line of questioning and did his best to downplay their concerns. "Their Focus started to give them trouble while trying to leave." Behind Snerb, Nas and the others were already making their way to the door, with E Nice quietly murmuring, "Let's get the %#@^#$ out of here." The second man took a step forward. "And you left them?" Snerb cocked his head to the side. "I offered, and they declined. Ted and Bill seemed to be familiar with the problem. So I assumed they'd be up and running in no time." "You could have stayed and guarded their position while they worked," the other man stated. At that point, Snerb was beginning to lose his patience, but his quick untimely actions got him in the position they were currently in the first place. The last thing he wanted to do was exacerbate this problem. So more of their men started to gather, and at Snerb's count, they were outnumbered three to one, probably more than that, assuming that Peen and CityofChamps weren't given firearms as parting gifts. "COMRADES!" boomed a voice said from the back of the growing crowd. Seconds later, a rail-thin man with a wire-thin mustache and blue eyes matching the Caribbean's seawater parted through the group. "Is this any way to treat our new friends, especially since Peen and CityofChamps were perfect guests? I will add that DiveB\tch, Peen, and CityofChamps can't leave without these protective jackets we've begun getting made for our team. We also have some much-needed supplies for your journey. They're weighted down due to the thin plating that helps with bullet protection." As the man approached them, it was DiveB\tch who waved him off. "Sorry, Oliver, but I'm already burning up right now. You've been more than generous this entire time, but I'm going to pass. "But I insist!" the man named Oliver said forcibly. "We really don't have much space to spare in our vehicle," Snerb added, trying to hint about the others laying in wait back at the War Wagon. There was a brief stand-off, with odd stares and mean glances before Peen stepped forward, releasing a near-defiant, "Fine, me and CityofChamps will take them." Peen slightly grimaced as he grabbed the jacket meant for him with his left hand and nearly brought his entire arm pointed downward. CityofChamps quickly grabbed his, put them on, and released the first thing that came to his mouth, "Goodness… these things smell like death." When he realized the harshness of his words, and the looks he got as he read the room, he straightened his face. "Uh, wow. Sorry, no offense." "None was taken," Oliver said. "They've been kept in storage for a while, and we have a moisture issue there. So they'll be a little musty-smelling for a while, but I promise it will pass. Snerb was near the door, a smile begging to emerge on his face as he tasted the smell of freedom being just seconds away, knowing that PSR could successfully put this entire venture behind them the minute this door was closed when suddenly Oliver appeared to have a Columbo moment. "One more thing…." Nas had already escorted the others outside when a flustered Snerb turned to face their hosts, "You know we've really got to go, guys." "If you were to be so kind on your way back home, to lead a couple of our most experienced fighting men back to where Ted and Bill were last. Who knows, with any luck, you'll probably ride past them on the way." "No problem at all," Snerb says, hiding his reluctance. "Under the circumstances, that's the least I could do." By the time Snerb got outside, Nas and the others were inside the Excursion that was not only running but backed halfway to his position. Snerb can't remember a time he ever walked so fast in his life, trying his best not to appear his movements as being overly hastily. So soon as he got into the vehicle, he pounded a closed fist on the back of 610's seat. "#[email protected]% .These azzholes want us to lead them to the others I had to kill. Punch it! I have a gut feeling they know something's up. We can get a headstart if we're lucky and not even have to worry about this." Unfortunately for Snerb and the others, it took only seconds for two vehicles from the yard to power up and be on their tail less than thirty seconds from them leaving. Lo's War Wagon was many things, but one of the things it was not as fast. The older Ford Crown Victoria and Toyota Sienna minivan were on their back in seconds. It was pointless to try to escape with speed or stealth. Since Snerb couldn't lead them to the bodies, he had no choice but to have Lo slow down at some random driveway not far off the main road. Snerb jumped out, flashlight in hand, and pointed its beam in the direction of an empty passageway. The Crown Victoria turned down the driveway; the Sienna stayed idling in his entrance. Snerb gave a pleasant wave and jumped back in the Excursion before it sped off. "How much time you think that bought us?" Bucky'sRevenge asked. Becks sucked tightly on her teeth. "Thirty seconds for them to realize those guys aren't there. Ten more seconds to realize you're purposely misleading them. Lo, if I were you, I'd take your War Wagon down some back alleys to shake off any potential tails. I feel we haven't seen the last of these guys." Becks' words soon became prophetic as two blocks and two turns before getting to the factory. Then, Bucky'sRevenge alerted everyone about two pairs of headlines closing in fast. "We've got company!" the veteran PSR member screamed. E Nice pulls out his radio, "Hey, this is E Nice to anyone there. We are coming in hot! Throw some warning shots over their heads as we come in. We'd do it ourselves, but that Crown Vic is driving like a madman." There was a pause in the anticipated response as over the radio, sounds of yelling mixed in with the sound of gunfire. Then, after ten more seconds of silence, a voice finally came. "Hey, this is Modo. I didn't get all of your messages, but if I got the gist. You are being pursued. I'd love to lay down cover fire for you. But, unfortunately, we got our hands full." E Nice looks at the radio as if the device itself is what is responsible. But just ass E Nice was readying for a follow-up, Becks suddenly swore aloud. Following her keen sight, everyone in the Excursion mimics Becks' words. Parked at the front and the rear of their factory were a total of four older vehicles. They all knew to whom these vehicles belonged to in their collective group minds. The Excursion's occupants didn't expect that the first Blue Hat in clear sight was no other than Krista.
Last Edit: May 9, 2022 10:34:02 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle
Cool story bro, and especially like I wasn't mentioned at all this time only to be killed in some dicknado type shit again.
Appreciate the kind words. And yes... it was quite petty of me to toss you into a story as canon fodder. I used to do that with a Cowboy fan, who's name escapes me at this point. I try not to get into many personal attacks on here... instead allowing my pen, or in this case my keyboard be my sword. Nevertheless, it was in poor taste and understand while some had beef with it.
Although I may add, in more than one story not only have I played the bad guy, more than one unpleasant end, so at least I've spread the love across the board.
Last Edit: May 10, 2022 4:21:19 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle
"You sure this ish is going to work?" Lo says, facing away from Snerb in a dark, vacant parking lot, a whole block away from the paper factory, the Crown Victoria and Sienna belonging to the group that held Peen and the others screech past every few minutes. Aided by E Nice's flashlight, Snerb, who was busy wrapping shreds of his t-shirt around the end of random pipework in the back of Lo's Excursion, finally looked up after several seconds. "One night, I was out here and needed urgently to take a quick duece about twenty yards or so from my bike. I began hearing this strange drumming sound, and when I came back, there were about a dozen infected near my bike, with more coming. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure I was being hunted by a guy who may have wanted my bike. So I ran back into the alley where a dumpster sat and began hammering away at the side of the dumpster until the infected came my way. Then, I ran back in the opposite direction, and several fences later, I was back at my bike. "Did the guy ever reveal himself?" DiveB\tch asked. "He did, at least I think it was the same guy. Who knows." "And what happened?" Snerb glanced up just long enough for his eyes to briefly lock on to DiveB\tch's. "He didn't get my bike, but I made sure he got something else of mine!" DiveB\tch let those words sink in as she drew her own conclusion. When Snerb was done with the pipes, he began hanging them out when E Nice stood before the group, waving his hand in attention, "Hey, I think Snerb's plan is sound, but also need to figure out a way to deal with Oliver's crew. Actually, an idea just hit me. Let me take care of them."
The driver of the Toyota Sienna was getting impatient and worrisome as not only did he lose contact with the fleeing Snerb, but his gas tank was below an eighth of a gallon, making him worried about how long it would take next time for them to find adequate gas. Then, just when his hopes were at the lowest, DiveB]tch burst between two parked cargo vans after cutting through a trash pickup alley. The driver slammed on his brakes, coming within a few feet of striking er. He and his passengers jumped out of the vehicle, out the van, and their guns trained on their new captive. "What the @#[email protected] is going on? Where are Ted and Bill? Where's Snerb??? Why'd he ghost us?" Feigning injury and fake tears, DiveB\tch doubled over as if to gather her words. "He… he… he didn't see their car and panicked. He crashed his truck two blocks down the street, and he's hurt." "Take us to them!" the man said with flaring nostrils. "Okay," DiveB\tch quickly replied. "Follow me!" "No!" the man said, not hiding the sinister nature of that word that exited his throat. "Get in with us! You led us on a goose chase the last time we followed you guys!" A thousand thoughts ran through DiveB\tch's mind, as she knew if she got in that minivan, she might never get out with both eyes open. She was hoping by the way she stood off-center, and the only light that was on her was indirectly focused from the Sienna's headlights, that they didn't see her slowly reaching for the Glock that 610 gave her. She was outnumbered four-to-one, and if she were lucky, she'd take out two before they gunned her down. Then, just as she had her hand fully gripped on its handle, the sound of the Crown Victoria's police interceptor engine screamed from down the street. The others whipped around to see the vehicle come to a screeching halt just a few feet from the Sienna. The driver jumped out, revealing a young man with a bald head had a face of tears that displayed both sadness and anger. "I found them! I found Ted and Bill!" One of the men from the Sienna was seconds from asking the natural follow-up to their condition when the young man rattled off, "They're dead! That #@&@#er Snerb executed our guys! I radioed Oliver, and they are meeting us on this road, and they aren't taking any prisoners!" "Cool," the Sienna's driver said, pounding his left hand on the front hood before painting back over his shoulder with his right hand. "No worries, Dave, as you see, we've got DiveB\tch right here. We can use her to get to the others." But when the driver realized Dave was giving an odd look, he quickly turned around and immediately released a torrent of expletives as he realized that DiveB\tch used the Crown Victoria's sudden appearance as the distraction she needed to slip back in the direction in which she came. "She was just here thirty seconds ago!" the Sienna's driver screamed. "There's no way she could have gotten that far on foot." Dave forcibly racked his shotgun and darted past the other men, only pausing as he stopped at the foothold of the ebony driveway. "Bring the van in to provide us with light at our backs. High beams lit to blind anyone before us. We will kill her, and then kill ALL the rest of his their men, taking our time with Serb." "Shouldn't we wait for the others?" one of the men cautiously said from the back. "We could double our men in no time." "F#@q%^$ that!" Dave exclaimed. "In NO time, Snerb and his crew could make it back to their hideout, which we always suspected was close by. So we wait, and for all we know, Snerb's guys could be twice our number, and then what?" Dave and his men moved forward, cutting their eyes down every cross-connecting, anticipating an ambush of weapon's fire, an ambush that never came, at least not from the side. Dave and his men, with the Sienna at his back, were three-quarters to the next block when they suddenly heard the roar of the War Wagon, and because of their close confines, it made it seem like the monstrous SUV/truck was coming down from the very heavens itself. When the Excursion turned in their direction from the opposite end of the driveway, its blinding Zenon lights approaching from a higher vantage point than their Sienna burned the retinas of Dave and his men into stillness. As the Excursion bounced off of both adjacent walls of the alleyway, the men emptied round after round into the area above the blinding lights in an attempt to strike its driver. Little did they know 610 had bailed shortly after turning into the driveway. By the time they decided it was time to turn around and try to make it down one of the side alleyways, the Excursion was on top of them, mashing muscle, sinew, and bones into a hash-like substance against the adjacent walls. The first four men were run down by the mighty vehicle, and those who thought the Sienna would provide some sort of protection didn't realize what happens when nine thousand pounds meet half that weight. Dave and a few of his men, who were fast enough to make it around the back of the Sienna, found no escape as the minivan was pushed back several feet before both vehicles erupted in a fireball, killing all those who thought that had found a moment's safety. "My War Wagon..." Lo said, his voice filled with disingenuous sorrow, before turning back to E Nice, and ducking his head into the Patriot's fan shoulder. "It should have been me to put you under." "Let's keep it real," 610 said in jest. "Your non-athletic azz wouldn't have been able to make it out of the truck! Stepping forward with DiveB\tch and Peen, "If you guys are done here, we still gotta assist Snerb on his part, and the three of us don't even know where the paper factory is located." "Just listen for the sound of gunfire," E Nice says. Three blocks away, the Blue Hats were firing away at the facade of the paper factory, but Modo and EagleRob kept them from advancing with a period shots from their assault rifles. While their lack of experience with the weapons caused them not to hit anyone, not any of the Blue Hats were willing to try their luck. Any Blue Hats who thought they could assault from the rear found two tractor-trailers blocking ninety-five percent of an entrance just wide enough for a large vehicle to pass through. The first Blue Hat vehicle to attempt it got picked off by BearCat and Bema, who, like EagleRob and Modo, couldn't hit people from that distance, but hitting a larger engine block wasn't that hard of a problem. Two vehicles disabled later, the Blue Hats gave up their plight. Around the front of the building, Krista brought up the microphone of a megaphone to her lips. "You can't hold out forever," Krista said through a megaphone of the APC. "You're surrounded, and we have more vehicles on the way. If you leave right, leaving the weapons, you stole-" "You betrayed us after we saved you!" Fleet screams at the top of his lungs, cutting Krista off. "We brought you to our home in good faith!" Krista dropped the megaphone's microphone and began approaching the paper factory on foot as she returned Fleet's volume back at him. "And I trusted YOU… right until I saw Nubulator carrying my brother's pistol! That's when I realized you ran across him and killed him. Then your team's bumbling caused the death of my cousin!" "WHAT??? He found that out on the road. We randomly saved you, right? Why would we have killed him? And you were there with Jenny. You know we did the best we could to save her!" Fleet shouts. "Listen here! You can have the damn building, just let my family go!" Krista walks within a distance that Modo and EagleRob, who repositioned themselves to the front, could take her out, but when the Giant and Eagle fan asks Fleet to okay the shot. But Fleet, understanding the situation waves them off. "Send out Nubulator and the ones who were with him who helped kill my brother for his gun. And only then will I consider leaving. What is your answer to that, Fleet?" "%$#@ YOU! We don't give up our people," Fleet yells as his response. "There… that's my answer." Krista is on her way back to the APC when she begins hearing metallic drumming coming from multiple areas behind her. With all the light of her vehicles facing the paper factory, they are unaware of the horde of infected facing them till one of her men on the outskirts suddenly releases a scream that resembles more like a child than a grown man. "We have incoming!" another Blue Hat yells as he and others begin managing to spin their personal lights behind them. Their weapons open up as more infected start pouring in now from all sides. While Krista is occupied in the front, the three men who are watching the rear of the factory are suddenly confronted by Lo's half of the team. One of the Blue Hats reaches for his assault rifle, only to receive a size ten boot to his chest from Becks. The other man, whose hand is already on his radio, tries to slowly flip to the talk button, only for Peen to jam the muzzle of his gun into his temple. "Alert her, and I promise you won't hear her response." Seconds later, BearCat allows Lo and the others entrance, who are shocked to see that both Lige and Snerb have already beaten them back. Nas screams to the front towards Fleet, who is almost done packing his things, "All are accounted for… CALL IT!" "Let's get the %$#@ out of here!" Fleet responded. "You heard him!' Nas screams before turning to the factory's rear. "The bus all good, BearCat? You and the others have only been working on it for months! BearCat and Bema regard one another first before giving Nas a thumb's up. "Okay, everybody, let's make our move!" Fleet says, rushing past everyone. "No!" Modo suddenly screams from the second-floor rafter. EagleRob grabs Modo and shoves him to the metal floor, "Everybody! Get the #@$# d-"
Last Edit: May 10, 2022 5:08:36 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle
When this story is told later on by grandpas and grandmas, nobody will recall what they were precisely doing when Krista's APC exploded through the front entrance of the paper factory, giving off a sound and vibration as if a missile struck the building. Likewise, who will know the level of detail when retold how over half a dozen men burst from its doors opening, firing, immediately nailing Becks and E Nice. Luckily for both PSR veterans, they were wearing vests they retrieved from their barracks runs. Unfortunately for the Blue Hats, the momentum that had seized from their sudden entrance was doused the moment EagleRob tossed his 'grenade' into their expanding grouping, causing audible groans from 610 and Modo but, more importantly, causing the majority of the invaders who actually saw it in the sporadic candle lights throughout the factory to cover, and actually one to dive directly on it in an attempt to 'Steve Rogers' the ensuing blast. "Hit them!" Nas said as he began firing with his pistol from his left hand while pulling back a recovering E Nice with his right." "Naw guy," Bucky'sRevenge says, as just a minute ago, he and BearCat finalized the adjustments to the bus. "I was considering handing out goodie bags. By the way, the bus is all set." As the recovering Blue Hats spread out away from the APC, the Blue Hat who had jumped on EagleRob's grenade came to his knees angrily, observing it with unmeasured disdain before throwing it over his shoulder through the hole the APC created. "You're angry that wasn't a real grenade that would have killed you and possibly more of your buddies?" EagleRob said as he rounded the corner of the APC, jabbing the butt of his rifle into the man's gut before jamming it into his forehead. The man hit the ground bloody, releasing screams that allowed his men the attention to open fire on EagleRob. Luckily for the middle-aged Eagle fan, he hit the ground hard, allowing the APC's ground clearance the space for him to roll under it. "WTF, EagleRob!" Lo yells between his gunshots. "Stop showing off!" "He's just made somebody toss away his toy," Modo adds as he constantly shoots and moves. While focusing their attention on EagleRob, two more Blue Hats fell from the gunfire of Bema and Lige. As bullets rang out through the factory, Becks had backed herself up against a far wall, plucking the bullet from her vest. "We are risking friendly crossfire! Go hand to hand!" "Easy for her to say," Jerry says, passing a crouching Nubulator on his left as she puts away her Glock with her left hand and withdraws her trusty knife with the other. "She's fifty feet away from these @#$$#!" "Yes!" Krista says in a mocking tone. "See how well your pencil-pushing accounting skills go against former cops and military in hand-to-hand combat. Besides, no one said we had to abide by the same rules." Krista's men used their arms until they couldn't, as PSR finest took the combat to them in close quarters. Krista was right. Her men were better equipped, donning combat boots and tactical vests. They were better fighters, something that Lige found the hard way when the BlueHats leveled him with one punch as he snuck around for a sneak attack. What advantage PSR did have was that this was their home for the last several months, so in the dim candlelights and upturned flashlights of the paper factory, they knew where the "hazard" areas were located. In between these illuminated zones was near-total darkness if you weren't taking your time. The Blue Hats were not taking their time. Not at all. Becks was making her way to the bus when a Blue Hat called himself cutting her, but what he didn't realize was between them was a glycol spill from a leaking sprinkler head. The charging man stepped right into it and almost comedically fell backward so quickly that he knocked himself out. Modo, who warned his pursuers not to pursue, was being chased by two large Blue Hats, who weren't aware of an unfinished six-foot metallic frame that would be the doorway of a new room. Modo, being a hair under six-foot, passed harmlessly under the ledge. Still, the two Blue Hats over that height ran right into the frame with the foreheads, the tiny bit of cushion their berets gave them insufficient to protect them from the impact. As a result, both men are out of the fight. Jerry was on the move as she was seconds from burying her blade deeply into the left thigh of a Blue Hat when one of his comrades opened fire at her at close range, missing her left ear so quickly it sounded like an oversized bee passed by her ear. Jerry took off, with the Blue Hats began their pursuit. When the men got close, a smile came to her face. Two twists and turns later, Jerry ran underneath a wide underpass, cutting deeply into two tight corded lines as she passed. "You can't hide!" one of the men yelled. "Not trying to…." Jerry says, as the lines she cut into began to fray and unravel until finally, they broke, releasing the twelve-hundred-pound paper roll that came at the two men like the boulder from Raiders of The Lost Ark. The two Blue Hats were flattened—literally, making the white paper look like a candy cane as it continued effortlessly down the hallway. CityofChamps, Peen, and DiveB\tch, who were already used to being, set their eyes on a Blue Hat who was secretly trying to flank Lo from the side near the restroom. It was the perfect three-tiered attack. CityofChamps gave Lo the verbal warning to get out of the way. Peen tackled the Blue Hat low, while DiveB\tch came in high. On his own, the Blue Hat was larger individually than his now four attackers once Lo joined in. But against four adults, his size and experience meant nothing against those odds. He reached for his gun that had been displaced upon DiveB\tch's initial hit, disappearing forever under a sea of Reeboks and Aiwa's. From Krista's perspective, this couldn't have gone any worse. She swore these PSR guys would fold quickly once she rolled the APC through their front door. But after seeing their prowess in-person weeks ago, coupled with the fact that they've made it this long seemingly unscathed, was a testament to their effectiveness. She was just starting to wonder why more of the Blue Hats hadn't flowed into the factory to reinforce them when she began hearing the sound of crumbling debris from the destroyed entrance was being disturbed, a smile came on to her face. "What minor victories you just had is over cause more of our men are here!" Krista announces. "I think you better look again!" E Nice says. "I don't think those are your men." Krista turns around to see dozens of infected pour through the APC's opening. By the time Krista screamed out, three of her fellow Blue Hats, who thought the sounds coming up behind them were their gasping, exasperated teammates fleeing to join their cause, were woefully surprised when the infected came about them in droves. The staccato of weapons fire erupted anew as the remaining BlueH ats quickly realized that the greater of their two threats was at their rear. "The Blue Hats got their hands full. It's now or never PSR!" Nas says. The remaining PSR who weren't already on the bus immediately began making their way for the dock. Once outside, those who hadn't seen BearCats', Bema's, Binger's, and Blue's work on the bus were blown away by the modifications. Almost every window had some sort of plating to protect a headshot of the passenger on the other side. In the middle of the bus, a thin ladder reached the roof where the 4B's were able to construct a .25 caliber, its ammo feed running to the floor and under a seat where two boxes were stored. At its rear, Bucky'sRevenge was assisting Snerb with anchoring his motorcycle, while at the front, a large obscured device partially covered the front grill. Blue released a devilish grin when asked what it was, "Hopefully, we won't need it." "Hopefully, we won't need any of it!" Fleet said as he waived the remaining PSR members aboard. "Think this thing will make it?" the grizzled PSR leader said to Blue. "You ever see that Clint Eastwood movie… the Gauntlet?" the driver asked. "No," the man standing over him said as he looked over the passengers one last time before they departed. Blue smile became larger, "I guess that's going to be a good thing because I have a feeling that before we arrive in Canada, we'll be able to do an adequate remake." The bus with the words "War Wagon" stenciled in a small area over top of its windshield tore out of the paper factory's lot, turning into the street so sharply that the PSR members on the left side swore they felt the bus left its wheels for a moment. However, they were immediately hit by small weapons fire on its right side as a few of the BlueHats fought off the infected threat that became concentrated on the front of the factory. Seconds later, Peen and CityofChamps yelled out that the APC and other vehicles were in pursuit. "Any time with that gun of yours, BearCat?' Peen yells. 610 looks out of the rear window with Peen, then back at BearCat. "Can that .25 cal pierce that APC? I never thought a thing even existed." "Armor-piercing at this range…." BearCat says with confidence," This gun can peel the roof off." Fleet gives a double-tap to the ladder that BearCat stands on. "Disable them… don't shred them. Something's telling me I will need that ammo to last. BearCat has the APC, with its bright lights dead-center in his lights, his finger seconds from releasing destructions when from an adjacent intersection, half a dozen vehicles enter the fray and immediately open on the BlueHats. "What the #@$#@?" Becks yells. "You've got to be kidding me," E Nice says. "What now?" "I recognize those vehicles," CityofChamps says. "It's Oliver and his men. They are attacking the Blue Hats because they probably think that's us in those vehicles. But, think about it, who else would be moving around in this area? Besides, even if they conclude it is us on this bus, they don't want to let anyone get in the way of their revenge. DiveB\tch, who was at the front of the bus stops in the middle near BearCat's ladder, resting her foot on the first ring. "Oliver's men have formidable weapons. They should give the Blue Hats a run for their money. At least slow them down enough for us to get some separation. "Somebody needs to tell that to Krista," BearCat says. "Cause if she's still driving the APC, she isn't giving any [email protected]$#@#s about Oliver's weapons." "Regular assault rifles and pistols will bounce right off of that thing," Bucky'sRevenge says before turning his eyes up towards the front of the bus. "Blue… how much can you get out of this thing?" "55." "55?" Nas quickly chimes in; his brows furrowed. "Drive this thing faster, man!" "Don't blame me. It's the law. Do you really want Otto Man taking little Johnny to school doing 75 down Main St. They are built only to go 55. Besides, we are weighed down. We are carrying a ton of extra weight with all of us, the gun, the diesel fuel cans, Snerby's bike, and the present upfront." Fleet leaned in over the back of Blue's seat. "Is it more weight than what 50 kids would be if this way an average day?" "Good point," Blue responded. "We should be able to distance ourselves from the APC," Bucky'sRevenge says. "Why this bus isn't meant for the dragstrip, nor is the APC. That being said, we can give Krista a reason to give us some breathing room." BearCat took that as his cue to let the .25 do its thing. The minute he re-centered his sights on the APC's headlight, BearCat fired away. A small five-second burst released two dozen rounds, which took out the left light of the APC. Immediately, the APC became smaller in everyone's vision of the bus. "Good shot!" Bema yelled up BearCat. Seven minutes later, they had left the boundaries of the city. They were on the I-5 heading north towards the Canadian border just mere minutes after that. "With any luck, guys, we will be sleeping under the Canadian sun eating circle bacon and eating our pancakes with maple syrup by this time tomorrow." The entire bus erupted in applause and their best preparation for Canadian "Aye's." Everyone except Peen and CityofChamps, who suddenly and unexpectedly began coughing and gasping for air. Peen clutched hold of DiveB\tch's arm, his watery eyes cherry red as every breath seemed like a futile struggle for survival. While others gave the two Steeler fans space, DiveB\tch ran towards them with panicked grief on her face. "No… no… no… he couldn't have!" Snerb mouthed the latter of Diveb\tch's words scrupulously until it finally hit him. "Oliver!" That's when Snerb's eyes narrowed on those jackets. The very jackets Oliver insisted Peen and CityofChamps take with them upon leaving. The same jackets that DiveB\tch herself turned down, a decision that, in hindsight, saved her life.
A half-hour later, outside of Sacramento, five minutes off of I-5 at the grounds of a state park, sad eyes buried two of their longest PSR members, who chose instead to meet their end at the hands of friends rather than to walk the lands as one of the infected and possible bring harm to others. Each PSR member gave a brief, but poignant story about Peen and CityofChamps, before promising their fallen friends they see them again. After stretching their legs some more and getting in a good pee, PSR's finest returned to the road with Lo driving. Blue insisted he needed a break, and Lo promised he could get them to Canada faster, although the max speed of the bus was a constant. They were on the road an hour before Beck's eyes gave them an early warning as she commenced to beat the back of Lo's seat, urging them to pull over. Moments later, everyone had disembarked as they went over the smoldering wreckage of Krista's APC. Suppose the sudden appearance of the vehicle didn't bring them enough reasons for concern, DiveB\tch's discovery 100 yards up of Oliver's Cadillac DTS. Like Krista's APC, the vehicle had been gutted. Lo rotated his view back and forth between Olliver's vehicle and then to the APC, "I don't know about you, but it looks like our problem solved themselves." "I would love to believe that," DiveB\tch stares reluctantly. "But like I said before, Oliver's guns were formidable, but they were pistols and two shotguns. They aren't taking out an armored personnel carrier." "Something took it out." 610 added. "What's more disturbing is that whatever took it out would mean taking us to pieces," Nays says. "We need to consider our next movements seriously.
Last Edit: May 10, 2022 6:26:53 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle
All of PSR, plus five new friends, sat in a rest area parking lot twenty-five miles from the border. Although they were amongst new friends, that didn't prevent a heated discussion between Fleet and one of the men who had approached them named Jose. Jose had been riding toward Canada with his wife and two daughters when two bikers and a minivan suddenly ambushed them. According to Jose, they were well-armed, well-trained, and flat-out nasty. After a severe beating and a gunshot to his upper chest below the clavicle, they took his family and left him for dead. If it weren't for the next passing family, a husband and wife team, who were doctors that miraculously stabilized him, he would have died. "You guys did real good," Becks said to the medical couple. The man, who identified his name as Pat Tracy, gestured to his wife, Donna. "Me and my wife aren't soldiers, but we can patch folks up. Jose winced as he brought his hands together before the PSR gathering. "If you go up any further north, holmes… you're DEAD!" "But your family?" Jerry asked. "Soon as I'm well enough, I'm going after those dogs. Either I get my family, or I die trying." Jose responded. "You may not know this, but we've taken on a bad guy or two over the last six months, and we haven't lost anyone," Nas says. So soon as those words left Nas' lips, he regretted them, angry at himself as just that fast he had forgotten Peen and CityofChamps. "Well… not directly anyway." Jose picks a small open water bottle, but every time he's about to drink from it, he returns his attention to the others to talk. "We aren't talking about the Blue Hats or some randoms. Even the Blue Hats don't come this far north. These guys… they probably realize that if you are coming up here, you are headed for Canada, and you are probably loaded down with supplies. The fourth newbie stood, an older man by the name of Bobby, who looked as close to their fellow PSR Ron as he could be his twin brother. "You guys aren't getting it right. When I first got here over a month ago, a fella told me they were bad, just not as ruthless. They were way further north than they are now. So they are both growing in their intensity as well as their coverage area, which means they are probably growing in numbers as well. As for you, Jose, you had better figure out a way to get your family back soon. I understand that may not be sickos, but they will trade your family away to others." "F$#Q^$#!" shouted out before he stormed over to his bag, grabbed his gun, and began pacing back and forth in place. "Calm your hostile azz down," Fleet said. "You are in no condition to take them on anyway." Jose wheeled back in Fleet's direction. "With your help and that big azz bus-" "Will just get me and my friends all killed," Fleet finishes. "We need an indirect approach to this." "I'm good at the indirect approach," Snerb says. "You're going to start a got-damned war..." Fleet venomously fires back. "Again!" Fleet's words cut deep, but Snerb knows the PSR leader was right. The second something would go sideways, Snerb would start dropping bodies. "I have an idea," Nubulator says. "But we are going to need your vehicles. And btw, do we still have any explosives left?" "And what are we supposed to use to get over to Canada?" Bobby asked. But before an answer needed to be replied, Bobby's eyes wandered to the armored school bus the PSR contingent arrived in. "Oh, that's right." "Pat and Donna," Before this day is done, we will probably be in heavy need of your abilities. But for now, we just need one of your medical bags and your car right away." An hour later, Dr. Donna Trace had to look away as Modo and Blue gleefully fired several rounds into her 2021 Honda CRV. "I find it odd that you appear to be enjoying this," EagleRob said to the lifelong Giant fan. "Not everybody can lob a false grenade at everything. "Modo said. "Besides, how often do I get to fire at something and not have it fire back? Turning his attention to the CRV's owner, Modo lowered his tone, "Sorry Dr. Trace, but look at it this way. At least it's still drivable now. I don't know how it will be when we get back. But trust me, if you are guys are going to cross the border at all today, your chances with the bus-" "War-#$%^$#@^%$-Wagon!" Lo yelled from the back before biting into his PB&J sandwich. Modo shook his head mildly before continuing, "Ahem, War bleeping Wagon is a lot more higher with us. I mean our man BearCat is nasty with that gun up top." "I don't get it," Bobby said, "If you use their car to lure them in, why do you need my Tundra? Just paid my baby off three months ago." Smiling a sinister grin, Nubulator nodded his head approvingly, "Yeah, about your Tundra…." By the time Modo and Blue were done his pistol play, coupled with a few elbow drops and rear kicks from PSR brethren, the Trace's CRV looked like it had gone through a war. Nas had to prevent BearCat, who was slowly walking up with a blow torch. "Not necessary, bro!" Nas added, "This isn't Mad Max!" Nas stated this, but after taking a good look at the bus, aka War Wagon, in the full sunlight. "Okay… perhaps this is Mad Max." Nubulator put together a small team that appeared to be a close-knit group trying to make it to the border. Behind the wheel was Nubulator himself, while riding shotgun was Lige. A "wounded" Blue lay his head in the lap of a Becks, who nursed his injuries in the backseat. While driving erratically with their hazards on while honking their horn, it didn't take long for two vehicles to approach them on their side of the median of the northbound lane. The first vehicle, a souped-up Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder, stopped and came to a screeching halt about fifty yards out. Its driver and two occupants step in front of the vehicle with various weapons drawn on their target. The second vehicle, a Ford panel van, didn't stop until it severely dented the front left bumper of the doctor's CRV. Three men stormed out of the van's side door armed with handguns and zipped ties. The driver stayed behind the wheel, his engine idling, as he revved it every few seconds to give the Accord a little nudge back and forth on its suspension. Becks cradled Blue's head like a newborn, and she screamed for assistance from the backseat, tossing around all sorts of medical supplies. "Help us please!" She demanded tearfully. "About fifty miles back, Blue Hats hit us, and my cousin is wounded!" The closest man to lean in laughed in a near-uncontrolled, maniacal outburst. "Ma'am, if you are looking for assistance, you came to the wrong place. Now all of you step outside. Cause we're going to take you, your vehicle, and your supplies. If your cousin can't make it out of the vehicle on his own power…." The man taps his assault rife a few times. "I'm pretty sure we can give him something for his pain!" As verbal protests from the CRV's occupants ensued, one hundred yards away, Fleet and Nas squinted through their binoculars and saw all of the men leaning in on the CRV from multiple windows. Fleet pulled his radio to his lips, "You're on!" In a perfect world, men wouldn't be able to park facing the wrong way on a five-lane highway. If one chooses to do so in an imperfect world, they shouldn't play heavy metal at such an audible level that the poor vehicle's spears start to pop and distort. This audio level causes the men to nod their heads up and down to beat rapidly, all the wheels audibly blinding them to the 5500 pounds of Japanese-inspired, American-built steel coming their way. The Tundra rear-ended the Eclipse Spyder and the two men in front of it who would never know what happened to them. Simply put, their bodies ceased to exist as they exploded into a crimson mist. The impact caused all their brethren to wheel back in the direction of the impact, which in turn let their PSR "victims" quickly turn the tide on them. Nubulator quickly pushes open his driver's door, startling his watchdog enough. When the man finally recovered, Nubulator was on top of him, delivering a Becks taught front snap-kick that landed in his gut meant for his upper chest. The man who was guarding Lige looked up as Nubulator made his move, which allowed the PSR veteran the moment he needed to lean out and clobber the man with a straight jab. Lige exploded from the vehicle simultaneously as Becks reached out and sized the from of her assailant's rifle into the CRV until its muzzle reached the seat behind her. She then pulled its trigger away from the man's right index finger with this motion. As Becks exited the vehicle, the man scoffed loudly as he stood before her, thinking to himself that although this woman who stood before him was tall for a woman, she still gave up half a foot and seventy-five pounds. In his mind, she had no chance against him. As the man was sizing Becks up, the van driver grabbed the assault rifle that lay between him and the passenger seat. From his vantage point, he was going to chop down these attackers before they had a chance to know what was hitting them. "This will teach you to forget about the-" The driver's thoughts were cut off as the unmistakable feel of cold metal jabbed him in the side of his head." The man turned around and saw the face of Nas standing there. "I bet you think we forgot about you." Becks' opponent continued to size her up, his attention swaying back and forth between her and the other PSR vets. "Your men… their gonna jump me when I start whuppin you, aye?" "No need to worry about my friends…." Becks said sternly. "... cause you aren't going to whup me!" The man came at Becks with a speed that betrayed his size. The only problem was Becks was faster, sidestepping out of the way until the man slammed into the passenger side of the CRV. The man quickly recovered, turning to face her, only to have Becks shove him back into the car, followed by a stunning left jab and right cross. The man spat blood from his lips and missed with his left overhand, but he did connect with a right body shot that Becks would feel for several days. Unfortunately for the man, Becks was wearing their body armor from the barracks. Bucky'sRevenge suggested that when possible, wear their armor underneath clothes because the average attacker will aim for center-mass when they fire unless they see someone wearing protection. It's then when they'll aim for the head. The man cried out in pain, clutching his severely sprained right hand with his left. Becks calmly walked over and finished him with a quick right cross. A twenty-minute ride later, the van drove down a dirt road that led to a narrow checkpoint where the guards on both sides looked eyed the driver with a worried look. "Where's Woodey and Frank? "That crotch-rocket of theirs blew something out there. They're in the back," the driver said. The guard on the passenger side looked at the passenger, who was sporting a shiner that was so prominent that he could almost see himself in it. "You okay in there, Scott?" The man named Scott smiled as he nervously gathered his thoughts, and any thoughts he had of warning the guards were tossed out when a voice from the backseat within earshot of the van's occupants only stated, "You'll be dead before they can make a move!" "Had a little trouble out there," Scott said. "But hey, you should see the other guy!" The van was waived on, allowing Nubulator to set the next part of his plan in motion, a plan that he had yet to share with the others. Leaning in over Scott's shoulder, Nubulator calmly asked, "Hey, anybody survive the APC? You know, like a fiery she-d3vil?" "That crazy @#@#!" Scott replied, his facial expression even from the side told Nubulator it wasn't a pleasant memory the man was recalling. "Yeah, she's alive. Banged up bad, though. She took out two of our men and maimed a third. The boss means to make an example out of her so that she won't be with the others." Blue, listening in on the conversation, spoke aloud to the van's occupants. "If you seek revenge, you should dig two graves." When silence grabbed the bus, Becks shook her head in disgust. "C'mon, guys… CONFUSCIOUS! You clearly don't have to be of Asian descent to know this!" I get the point that you are trying to make Blue, and it's not that. If anything, I'm trying to redeem her. All this started over confusion. How many people have died because of it? "You just described the history of warfare," Becks added as she readied her weapons. Thirty feet from a small office building entrance when a young man on a motorcycle came riding up from the passenger side. "Hey Scott… where's my cousin?" the young man asked. "Eclipse died out there. He's in the back," Scott replied. The young man gave off a toothy grin as he patted the van from the side, "Told you that old thing would die on you one day. We have access to dozens of vehicles, and you settled in on that thing." When silence greets him from the other side of the van, his facial expression changes and several others in the area stop what they are doing and begin focusing their attention. Scott sees this, nervously giggling. "He must have drifted off back there, that's all." The young cousin reaches for the van's latch, only for it to shift in front of him and the door to slide open. "You're cousin's dead boy," Lige calmly says as he slams the butt of his gun against his forehead knocking him out. Seconds later, Becks and the others roll out, dropping all of the surrounding men on the passenger side of the van, who didn't think that death and mayhem would be released from the side of the van. Scott tries to make a break for it, only for Blue to grip him from the back of his neck. "Not so fast!" After parking directly against the side of the building, Team PSR exited the van, using Scott as a human shield, as they forced their way into the building, firing at everyone who even looked at their weapons. Before they knew it, they were surrounded by five-to-one. But their phalanx-like position was so thorough that no one attempted to get that perfect shot for fear of hitting Scott. "Let your prisoners go!" Nubulator demanded. "F-ck You!" a voice called out from the back. It takes Lige three times to hear different voices before he finally puts two and two together, seconds after Blue has already come up with four. "Canadians! Effin Canadians are behind this. They were literally shutting down people escaping on this country from our side of the border." "I don't care if they are Mormons promising me three husbands," Becks says. "All I care about is putting a stop to this, so no one else has to suffer." "Upon up your holding area, or Scott's going to wonder why his head suddenly feels lighter. "What do you think you're doing here?" He was a short, non-descript-looking man in his late fifty's who had several others flanking him. "You in charge?" Nubulator asks, his eyes narrowed to thin blades of brown and white. Then men stepped forward away from his personal entourage, stopping so close to Nubulator that the veteran PSR thought he was trying to sniff him. "I'm Oscar, and that's my son you have. I am also the one in charge of whom you seek. You see… the man said in a voice so raspy it reminds Nubulator of Al Pacino, all the while not looking at Nubulator or the other PSR directly. "That's my boy you got there. Let him go, and I'll let ALL of our prisoners go. Who cares, really? We can have those holding pens filled in a day. Meanwhile, if you want to leave with our people, you have to eat with us." Becks' face immediately frowns sharply. "Excuse me?" Even when turning to face Becks, Oscar still avoids direct contact, his gaze seems to instead focus on the candle source at her rear. "Yes, if you want us to do you a big favor, besides releasing the man you hold, you will have a sitdown with us. First, I want to know who you are and where you come from. Undoubtedly you have more with you, as I can't see the four of you, although well-armed and apparently well-fed making it this far without the assistance of others. Former military? Some sort of strategist amongst your party? Anyway, that is the deal, so to speak." Nearly fifteen minutes later, a smell went through the building that made the collective mouths of PSR water despite their reluctance to be there. From their perspective, they haven't eaten a traditionally prepared meal since the government fell. The smell of the onions alone was starting to make Blue's eyes water, but not from the sulfuric acid enzyme that makes one's water when the vegetable is pierced, but more from the anticipatory joy of what it meant regarding the larger meal. Fifteen minutes after that, with Scott sitting right next to Lige, who had a gun in his lap in the young man's direction, the PSR group found themselves in a large conference room with gray tables stuck together to form proper seating for over twenty guests. Steaks, potatoes with giant mounds of butter, as well as glasses of wine were put before watering mouths that gawked in amazement. Minutes later, nearly a dozen men, one of whom had striking blue eyes that they could all see from across the room, several women and children were brought to the table. They looked terrible and smelled bad, but it didn't affect their appetite as all of them tore into the food before them. All of them--except the children. "Look down at the end of the table," Lige pointed out. "Those Hispanic-looking kids. That must be Jose's kids." "Where's his wife?" Becks says. Within earshot of only their group Nubulator leans in towards Becks. "It could be any one of these women here. For all we know, it could be any woman at this table, and these azzholes could keep them separated. Don't you worry, we'll make sure she's accounted for before we leave!" As the PSR brethren remain cautious about digging in, it's not long before Oscar notices this. "Ah, you feel as though this is some sort of trick… a subterfuge. Each of you cut a portion of your steaks away and present them to me and several of my men." Seconds later, after Oscar and his men ingested the food and didn't pass out, the rest of PSR took this as a green light. This was their moment to dig into the food before them. To Becks, an explosion of flavor sent shockwaves through her mouth as she became giddy as a teenager. Meanwhile, tears ran freely down Blue's face as each steak bite was a near-orgasmic experience in his mouth. "Be careful of the wine," Nubulator warned in a hushed tone. "This stuff is pretty potent. We drink more than half a glass, and we won't be able to pose much of a fight. When we wake up, we'll find ourselves in the basement." With Oscar's urging, Becks and the others shared their trials and tribulations, confirming they were amongst friends but not sharing the intimate details of the supplies and not letting them know about the War Wagon. In the end, everyone stood up, exchanged faux pleasantries, and made their way to the rear of the building, where Oscar had two white panel vans in wait with their engines idling. Nubulator quickly excused himself, asking to be shown to the bathroom, emphasizing that he hadn't used a traditional bathroom in a long time. Seconds later, one of Oscar's men, a very large man with his cap so far down over his head that you could barely see his eyes, sporting a neat goatee, escorted him to the bathroom, lighting the lone cancel just inside the doorway which illuminated where several large recycle bins were filled with the minty blue chemical with kept the smell of waste down, without fully eliminated it. Nubulator was shocked when the man didn't retreat after his escort, instead choosing to stand just a few feet behind him. Nubulator didn't mind this, if anything, it actually helped his plan along. "What's your name, big guy?" Nubulator asked. The man cocked his head to the side, "What's it to you?" "If somebody is going to watch me p-" "Greg!" the man quickly blurted out. "No more questions!" "All I needed to know, Greg!" Nubulator said while turning to face Greg mid-stream, his urine spraying all over Greg's boots." Greg was so flabbergasted and caught off guard by this that he never saw the devastating right hook that Eagleob taught him coming that made the already poorly-lit bathroom darken. Nubulator grabbed the man's cap and light camo jacket. He knew he couldn't fool anyone close up, seeing now of Oscar's men mirrored his epidermal hue. But without the modernness of working light fixtures over a few feet of the previous world, he had a chance. Nubulator exited the bathroom, happy that Oscar didn't have a second man in waiting on the outside, and immediately went for the steps leading to the second floor. Seeing only one man standing outside a door, Nubulator risked his chances that his goal was inside. Approaching casually, the man never suspected a thing before Nubulator jammed his Glock into the man's lower sternum. "You know what happens if you call for help, right? Seconds later, the veteran PSR member was inside, as twin sets of eyeballs burned holes through the center of his chest from Krista, who had been reading an old magazine from a flashlight before his arrival. Slamming the magazine down to the floor, Krista bellowed through gritted teeth, "Why are you here???" "Because your stupid-azz shouldn't be here!" Nubulator says. "I swear to you that I found your brother's gun in that rubble near a supermarket. Perhaps he was trying to get some food to gather his strength before coming to you. There was a vehicle nearby, so maybe he was even there for that. On the other hand, it's possible that the BlueHats even killed him since this was one of their facilities, making it sadly ironic for you to join them in getting at us. Who knows? But the point is, we rescued you, tried to rescue your cousin, and here we are again trying to rescue you again. A stillness grabbed the room as Nubulator could still feel anger coming off Krista in waves before turning her attention towards the guard. Krista stood up and began pummeling the guard before quickly tiring, deciding to tie the man up instead. When she turned her attention back towards Nubulator, she was shocked to see him handing her her brother's gun. "What's it going to be? Would someone really go through all of this if they were trying to deceive you?" When Krista didn't respond, Nubulator released a soft sigh. "When you go seeking revenge, dig two graves!" Krista snatched the gun from Nubulator's hand, checked the cylinder, and held it against her left thigh. For the briefest of moments, Nubualator still thought she would draw on him. But those feelings when away as Krista's body language softened. "You butchered the quote… you know that, right?" "Just heard it today for the first time." "I'm assuming you have a way out of here? These guys don't like me very much." "Imagine that!" The two new 'quasi-friends' came downstairs just as Oscar explained the status of the vans they were going to leave with. "Not a lot of gas in theme," Oscar says. "Can't exactly spare enough to get you where you are going. But again, if you've come this far, you have your own means of travel. The fumes in these well get you-." Oscar freezes in his tracks when he sees Nubulator escort Krista behind the rest of PSR. The man began to shake his head before frantically words leaped from his throat. "No… no… no… We did NOT agree on that. That woman right there! We've got plans for her! Lige positioned Scott in front of him, stating, "You agreed to release the prisoners. This means ALL of them!" Nubulator turned to Blue, and while right next to Oscar, he had his PSR brethren, "Can you do your best to sweep these vans?" "Still not trusting?" Oscar says with a mild shake of his head. " "Look man... I look skeptically at the man I see in my reflection daily," Nubulator states. "You can't get this far alive by trusting everyone. Ask my buddy Lige over there last time he trusted somebody." Lige released an uneasy sigh before reluctantly stating, "I got played. The person played me is now dead." After Blue retuns from his inspection, thus giving his approval, the freed passengers enter the vans one by one. When Lige, who still has his gun on Scott's left ribcage, notices Jose's kids still being by himself, he nods to Becks. "Where are those kids, mom?" Becks demands, her hand inching closer to her weapon. Oscar's eyebrows quickly furrow, "I don't understand what's going on here… she's with you." Becks and Lige slightly back towards the vans, quickly running through the faces of the four women that boarded. Becks, pointing a sharp finger in Oscar's direction, "Those kids' mothers are NOT in those vans!" A smile that was beyond humor sense to it came upon Oscar's face. "Silly… silly girl, who said they were in the vans! I said Vanessa Ortega with you!" That's when Oscar slowly raised his left index finger and pointed to her stomach. Every PSR member knew what Oscar was referring to, and they all clutched their stomachs in revulsion. Blue, who had enjoyed his meal the most, regurgitated on the spot. "You sick bast-ard!" Becks screamed, fighting off every urge to execute Oscar on the spot but realizing that over a dozen of his men stood around him. Becks was good. So were the others. They wouldn't survive such a close proximity firefight. "Now release my son!" Oscar said, taking a step forward. "Oscar, I promise you if you don't give us a clear path out of here, you will discover we've made it this far and ended into your very compound." Becks made sure everyone got in safely in both vans before she nodded to Lige, who drove her van of prisoners to take off. It was only at that moment that Lige finally lowered his gun away from Scott's head, who stood outside his driver's door. They sped off in unison down a narrow path outlined with razor fencing. I want this place to BURN!" Becks said. "Oscar's only going to get more people after we leave! But, wait a minute, what is that?" In the second van with Blue and Nubulator, they both echoed the same sentiment but with expletives. A large tractor came in from the right and blocked the path at the end of the fencing. "This is why I don't like people," Lige said. As bad as blocking their exit was, a side door opened up, releasing dozens of infected who poured over the top of each other in their direction. "Can we double-back?" Blue yelled to Nubaltor, who had his hand on the wheel. But when Nubulator's driver-side mirror suddenly exploded before falling away, the two men knew that going back was a death sentence. "You're not going to like this!" Becks said as she placed her hand on Lige's steering wheel. "You're going to flip and kill us!" Lige screamed. "We won't have to worry about the infected. Instead, they'll all high-five us as friends!" "Brace yourselves!" Becks yelled to the van's occupants. The van turned sharply and ran into the side fencing, but with so little space to widen their angle, the van only hit at about thirty degrees, which pushed the fence inward but not through. Two seconds later, an impact from the van's rear was powerful enough to send the van the rest of the way through. Lige pulled out his radio, "Danm you Nubulator, you are going to have to pay for my chiropractor!" "You guys looked liked you needed a nudge," the voice said through the radio's receiver. "Time for Plan B!" Nubulator reaches inside his vest and retrieves a detonator. "Hope we are still in range!" Seconds later, his rearview and side mirrors reflect enough light back into the van for him to read the child warning label on the middle seat. A grizzled voice immediately comes over the radio. "I take it from this communique and the fact that the sky north of me just lit up that you guys were successful." "Was there ever any doubt?" Nubulator said through his radio before smiling, "According to our host, I'm a skilled strategist! No idea whether or not that blast got them all. If it didn't, we could be expecting company in a few minutes, and they won't be happy." "The minute we saw that blast, we started to roll. See you in ten minutes! Fleet out!"
Last Edit: May 12, 2022 5:48:34 GMT -8 by Dark Eagle